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COMPANY FOR GEORGE 

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BETWEEN THE SOUP 
AND THE SAVOURY 

By 

GERTRUDE JENNINGS. 



Originally produced at the Playhouse, London, under 
the management of Mr. Cyril Maude and the direction of 
the Author, on October 19, 1910. 

The Cook (Maria) . . Miss Margaret Murray. 

The Parlourmaid (Ada) . Miss Maude Buchanan. 
The Kitchenmaid (Emily) . Miss Ethel Ross. 

Scene. — The Kitchen. 

Time. — Evening, during the serving of dinner. 



One Act, 
Price 6d. 

30 minutes 

in represen= 

tation. 

One Scene. 

Fee, 
One Guinea. 



COMPANY FOR 
GEORGE 

AN ORIGINAL FARCICAL COMEDY 
IN THREE ACTS 



By 
R. S. WARREN BELL 



Copyright, 191 i, by Samuel French, Limited 



New York 

SAMUEL FRENCH 

Publisher 

28-30 WEST 38TH STREET 



London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd 

26 Southampton Street 

STRAND 



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The fee for each and every amateur representation 
of this play is three guineas, payable in advance to 

Messrs. SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd., 
26, Southampton Street, 

Strand, London, 

or their authorized agents, who will issue a written per- 
mission for the performance to take place. No repre- 
sentation may be given unless this written authority 
has first been obtained. 

Any costumes or wigs required in the performance 
of " Company for George " may be hired or purchased 
reasonably from Messrs. Chas. H. Fox, Ltd., 27, Wel- 
lington Street, Strand, London. Scenery may also be 
arranged with this firm. 



TMP92-008611 
©OLD 24493 



Mr. Fewlass Llewellyn* 
Miss Eva Moore. 



Originally produced on Saturday, October 15, 1910, at the 
Kingsway Theatre, London, by Miss May Palfrey and Miss 
Lena Ashwell, with the following cast : — 

George Birch (of " Wee Neste," 
Bishop's Dale) % 

Gay Birch (his wife) 

William Claypool (of Cam- 
bridge University, a visitor 
at "Wee Neste "j . . . 

Doctor Horne (a local practi- 
tioner) ...... 

Lydia Neale (his half-sister, a 
hospital nurse) .... 

Septimus Spring (a man of 
many interests) .... 

Colonel Spring (his brother) 

Lord Michaelmas (an impover- 
ished landowner) 

Mary P. CooBit (an American 
Lady Explorer) .... 

Dunn (footman to Lord Michael- 
mas) 

Fanny (maid servant at " Wee 
Neste f> ) 

AusTiN (garden boy at " Wee 
Neste ").*.... 



Mr. Kenneth Douglas* 

Mr. Herbert Bunston. 

Miss Hilda Antony. 

Mr. Halliwell Hobbes*, 
Mr- Windham Guise. 

Mn Guy Carey. 

Mrs. Culling. 

Mr. Frank Leach. 

Miss Esme" Hubbard* 

Mr* Percy Goodyer* 



SCENES. 

ACT I. 

Scene. — Morning-room at " Wee Neste. 



ACT II. 

Scene. — Exterior of " Wee Neste. 



The next morning» 



ACT IIL 

Scene. — The same. The next morning. 

Time.— The Present. 

Note. — The curtain should be played up for Act I with the 
chorus of " I Love a Lassie" and the same should be played a$ 
the last curtain falls. 



r 




u 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE 

ACT I. 

Scene. — Morning-room at " Wee Nested 

Mr. Birch discovered at breakfast-table., r. Mrs. Birch 
walking in from up l. with cup and saucer. 

Mrs. Birch. So forgetful of Fanny not to lay a cup 
and saucer for Mr\ Ctaypool. {Sits down c, facing 
audience.) What were you saying about some one 
arriving last night ? 

Mr. Birch. I was saying that Home's sister arrived 
last night. 

Mrs. B. (coldly). Oh ! I do not attach any import- 
ance to the event. (Pours out tea.) 

Mr. B. My dear, the arrival of a real, live, pretty 
hospital nurse in this rural and healthy but somewhat 
dull spot, is an event. 

Mrs. B. (passing him cup). How do you "know she is 
pretty ? 

Mr. B. Home showed me her portrait. 

Mrs. B. Oh, well, she'll be nice company for your 
friend Mr. Clay pool. 

Mr. B. (putting down cup suddenly). My friend ! I 
wish I'd kicked him out weeks ago ! 

Mrs. B. George ! Think what company he's been 
for you ! 

Mr. B. Enough of that parrot cry ! He's not com- 
pany for me. That is to say, he's too much company 
for me ! 

Mrs. B. My dear man, I've simply kept him on 
because I thought you were dull. 

Mr. B. So you say, but you know you would be very 
dull if he wasn't here. I am nobody 1 I do not think 
that I have really entertained you since the days of our 
courtship. (Sighs.) When I used to play tunes on my 
teeth with a fruit-knife. 

Mrs. B. (tartly). And very silly you looked. 

Mr. B. When one is in love, one is mad. 

Mrs. B. (acidly). Thank you ! 

Enter Fanny from, down l. with toast. 
Is Mr. Claypooi up, Fanny ? 

Fanny. Yes, ma'am. (Puts toast on table.) 

Mrs. B. Have you taken him his shaving water ? 

Fan,ny. Yes, ma'am. (going). _. _j 



6 ""■ COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Mrs. B. (takes toast). And seme scap — (sharply) 
he had no soap yesterday ? 

Fanny. I'll remember, ma'am. (Steps by dccr x 
down l.) 

Mrs. B. And clean tcwels ? 

Fanny. Yes, ma'am. (Exit.) 

Mr. B. There isn't all this fuss about my shaving- 
water. I can shave at the well for all you care. 

Mrs. B. You are not a guest. 

Bell off, down l. 

Who can that be ! 

Mr. B. (eating). If we exercise patience, I daresay 
Fanny will inform us. Possibly hot-house grapes for 
Claypool. 

Enter Fanny, down L. r with telegram. 

Fanny (to Mr. Birch). A telegram, sir. 

Mr. B. (opening and reading telegram). Your aunt 
Clara again ! 

Mrs. B. What— again ? 

Mr. B. Listen : *' Cannot understand postponement. 
Most awkward. Wire if can ccme to-morrow," and it's 
REPLY PAID. 

Mrs. B. Oh dear 1 Oh dear ! What can we do ? 
She was so cross in her last letter. 

Mr. B. Well, we're helpless. Claypcol's got the 
only spare rocm. 

Fanny. Any answer, sir ? 

Mr. B. Yes— tell the hoy to wait a mement, Fanny. 

Exit Fanny down l. 
Now, Gay, decide 

Mrs. B. (with decision). Well, we can't ask poor Mr. 
Claypool to go. 

Mr. B. And we can't afford to offend Aunt Clara, 

Mrs. B. No. Oh dear, what's to be done ? 

Mr. B. Suppose we sleep Fanny out ? 

Mrs. B- Oh ! we couldn't put Aunt Clara in that 
tiny attic, 

Mr. B. We could put Claypool in it. 

Mrs. B. George, hew can you ? 

Mr. B. Suppose I get Home to give me a bed, and 
Aunt Clara turns in with ycu ? 

Mrs. B. (tearfully). With me ! Why, Aunt Clara is 
most particular. She wouldn't dreem of " tuirirg in " 
with anybody. 

Mr. B. Sleep Claypool out, then ? 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 7 

Mrs. B. But it takes the poor boy a week to get used 
to a strange bed — he told me so. It would be cruel. 

Enter Fanny down l., with Septimus Spring. The 
latter is a tall, thin, grey-haired man, dressed in an 
alpaca overcoat over a tweed suit, and carrying an old 
wide-brimmed straw hat and an umbrella. Clean-shaven, 
except for side-whiskers. 

Fanny. Mr. Spring, ma'am. [Exit.) 

Mr. and Mrs. Birch both rise. 

Mrs. B. {advancing towards Spring). Oh, how do you 
do, Mr. Spring ? [They shake hands.) 

Spring {waves off Birch). Sit down, both of you. 
It's a shame to disturb you. Get on with your breakfast 
at once. 
They re-seat themselves. Spring sits down l. of table on 

edge of chair, holding umbrella between knees. 
I thought I would just look in, as I got a letter from 
your mother, dear Mrs. Birch, only this morning. It 
seems she hopes to be here soon. (Birch and Mrs. 
Birch look at one another.) 

Mrs. B. {faintly). Yes. We hope to see her soon. 

Spring. Immediately, she said — immediately ! 
Hoped you were all well. A very nice letter. I antici- 
pate meeting her with great pleasure. — You must know, 
my dear Mrs. Birch, I keep in constant touch with my 
friends. Oh, yes ! Always keep your friends up, is my 
motto. Your aunt Clara now, dear Mrs. Birch. We 
correspond frequently. She saw my letter in the 
papers about my giant gooseberry, and was so interested. 
And Sir Ralph Glengarry 

Mrs. Birch. My uncle ! 

Spring. Even he has deigned to exchange some 
little correspondence with me on the origin of blue- 
bottles. 

Mr. B. Try him on wine bottles. He'll be on surer 
ground there. 

Mrs. B. [icily). Spare us this wit, George ! Won't 
you have some breakfast, Mr. Spring ? 

Spring. Thanks, but not till to-morrow morning. 
Ha, ha — excuse me. You Londoners are a little late 
in your ways. I generally breakfast at six — some 
lettuce, brown bread, and milk warm from the cow. 

Mrs. B. The Simple Life ! 

Spring. Eustace Smiles and I have crossed swords 
in the Daily Express as to whether the milk should be 



8 COMPANY FOR GEORGE, 

allowed to cool or be taken warm. Most interesting. 
At the same time I was enjoying a duel in the Chronicle- 
with Professor MacPeters on the diluting of milk. That 
i unny By the Way fellow in the Globe suggested that it I 
r eally wished to benefit the nation, I should first be- 
queathe my body to the " Dogs' Home' at Battersea " 
and then dilute my milk with arsenic. 

Mrs. B. {severely). How rude ! 

Spring. They must fill up with something, dear 
lady. I sent them a two-column reply, but they cut it 
down to four lines and headed it *' By the Milky Way." 
Ha ! ha !— not bad ! 

Claypool [voice within up l.)_ Bring me a clean 
towel, please, Fanny ! 

Spring. Why, your young friend is even later than 
you ! I fancied he had gone. He seems a bright, ami- 
able 'fellow — though as a matter of fact I have never been 
introduced to him. 

Birch is eating. 

Mrs. B. Yes, he's very good company for my husband. 
Mr. Birch chokes. 
My dear, what is the matter ? Yes, Mr. Spring, Willie — 
Mr. Claypool, I mean — is very nice. Plays with George 
and is company for Marjorie — I mean 

Spring. Quite so, quite so! He is making quite a 
long stay, I suppose ? 

Mrs. B. Yes, we are glad to have him with us ! He 
makes himself so useful. Helps me shell peas, and is 
company for Marjorie — I mean 

Spring. I comprehend. Just the sort of voung 
fellow people like to have on a holiday. Satisfied with, 
whatever is going and makes himself one of the family. 

Mrs. B. Oh, yes, he is quite one of the family. 

Mr. B. Quite! 

Spring. I know the type well. Quiet, modest, un- 
assuming. The product of modern university life. I 
am sorry I have not seen more of him. Well, I must be 
moving on. (Rises — and suddenly leans ovev butter-dish.) 
But, my good friends, do you know what you are eating ? 
Examines butter. 

Mr. B. Best fresh butter. 

Spring. Bah, Birch, bah ! You've been swindled. 
I have written a pamphlet on bad butter. This is. 
foreign, sir — Polish. It is obtained from cows that are 
fed on thistle tops (smells it) and dried dandelions, 
(Walks away from, table with it.) 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 9 

Mr. B. Well, as it's all we've got, you might let us 
have it till we can get some more. 

Spring {returning butter to table). You cannot be too 
careful with food. Even in the country it's adulterated. 
[Takes up milk-jug and peers in.) Ah, as I thought ! 

Mr. B. What's the matter now ? 

Spring. Two parts of chalk to six of milk. A 
fraud' ! I will send it to the county analyst. 

Walks from table with it. 

Mr. B. {springing up and seizing jug). Pardon me I 

Mrs. B. Oh, please leave us a little. And Mr. Clay- 
pool is so fond of milk. 

Spring. Ah, well, have it your own way — have it 
your own way. Now, if I could peep into that teapot 
{opens teapot) 

Mr. B. <> My good sir- 



,) 



Mrs. B.j Oh, please, Mr. Spring- 



Spring. Very good. Go on being poisoned. Don't 
mind me 

Mr. B. We don't. 

Spring {seizing Birch's wrist as his fork is half-way 
to his mouth). Stop ! 

Mr. B. {furiously). Leave go, will you ! 

Spring {releasing wrist). Have it your own way. 
I've warned you. All meat is bad ! You'll be sorry one 
day you didn't listen to me. {Snatches up Mrs. Birch's 
plate.) What jam is this ? 

Mrs. B. Strawberry ! 

Spring {examining it). Sawdust and turnip, coloured 
with a dye and flavoured with a drug ! [Puts down 
plate.) But go your own way. Poison your blood. 
Sink into an early grave. 

Mr. B. {guarding plate with hands). We'll chance it. 

Spring I'll be going now. {Stops and examines 
wall-paper.) Ha ! the home of countless microbes. 
(Birch following.) My friends, be warned. Distemper 
your walls and your ceiling, and wash them down every 
day with disinfectant. {Peers at carpet.) A carpet, too. 
Another harbourage for disease. Everywhere the 
microbe swarms. {Seizes Birch's sleeve.) This coat ! 

Mr. B. {struggling). Leave me alone ! 

Spring. Tweed ! Adopt warm underwear and a 
linen coat. Then you can wash it. {Going to door, r.) 

Mr. B. Do you wash your boots ? 

Spring. Everything. " H " is to me the first letter 



10 ! COMPANY FOR GEORGE. *-* 

of the alphabet because it spells Hygiene. I shall look 
forward to seeing your relatives. Good-morning ! 

Mr. B. [closing door on him). Good-morning ! 

Mrs. B. Don't be cross, George ! After all, he's a 
very harmless old gentleman. 

Mr. B. Harmless ! Inquisitive old gas-bag ! 
Shouldn't be surprised if Clara had put him up to rinding 
out when Claypool is going. (Sits down) . 

Mrs. B. What a mean idea, George ! 

Mr. B. You never can see an inch beyond your nose ! 
The old boy called for a purpose, mark me ! 
Enter Fanny with Dr. Horne down l. The latter is 
about thirty, smart and well-groomed, in riding clothes. 

Fanny. Dr. Horne, ma'am. 

Mr. and Mrs. Birch rise. 

Dr. Horne (advancing to table). Please don't let me 
disturb you. I must apologise for calling rather early. 
I have a long round this morning, and thought I would 
take you first. (To Mrs. Birch.) And how's the 
patient ? 

Mrs. Birch reseats herself. 

Claypool (voice within). I say, hurry up with that 
towel, there's a good girl. 

Mrs. B. (rising). Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Why 
doesn't Fanny take him his towel. 

Mr. B. I'll go and hurry it up. (Mrs. Birch sits 
again.) 

Exit down l. 

Dr. H. (sitting down r. of table). Your friend, then, 
is still with you ? Mr — er 

Mrs. B. Claypool. Yes, Mr. Claypool is still with us. 

Dr. H. Indeed ! I imagined his visit was to be quite 
a brief one, 

Mrs. B.. So did we — (quickly) I mean, it was, 
tout we are glad we've persuaded him to stay on, he's 
such company for George. 

Dr. H. What hospitable souls you are ! 

Mrs. B. Nothing of the kind. Willie — I mean Mr r 
Claypool — keeps us alive. This is a dull place, you 
know. 

Dr. H. (humorously) . But painfully healthy ! 

Mrs. B. Yes, it's healthy enough, except for the 
river. I believe that is what has affected Marjorie's 
throat, poor child. 

Dr. H, Is — er — Mr. Claypool an old acquaintance of 
yours ? 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. n 

Mrs. B. Oh, no ! We only met him here. He put 
up with Barltrop, the wheelwright, when he first came, 
but couldn't sleep. When Barltrop drinks too much, he 
breaks crockery, and that disturbed Willie — Mr, Clay- 
pool, I mean. When only rather lively Barltrop would 
break an egg-cup or a saucer, but when very, he would go 
on to larger things. 

Dr. H. I see. " From Egg-cup to Soup-Tureen.'* 
Sounds like the Life of an American President. 

Mrs. B. (as she rises, seriously). Please don't joke. 
(Dr. Horne rises.) It really upset Willie 

Dr. H. Mr. Claypool 

Mrs. B. Exactly, Mr. Claypool. (Comes down l. 
of table. Dr. Horne follows.) We met him at the 
tennis club, and he told us all about it, so we asked him 
to come to us for a week. You see, I thought he would 
be such good company ■ 

Dr. H. Quite so ! And has the week elapsed ? 

Mrs. B. Oh, he's been with us four weeks now. It 
has been a little awkward, as we have had to put off 
other friends, but he's very nice. So quiet and no trouble. 
Plays with Marjorie, and helps me shell peas. And of 
course George is glad of his company. We shall be so 
sorry when he goes, but we can't ask him to stay much 
longer. We are expecting an aunt of mine, you 
know, and at the end of a week she'll have to turn 
out for my uncle, and then my mother is coming. 
We haven't had the heart to give him a hint yet — but I 
must take you to Marjorie — poor dear ! her throat 
troubled her a good deal last night. 

Enter Mr. Birch from down l. 

Mr. B. I solved the difficulty by taking him up his 
towel myself. 

Mrs. B. (goes to him — hands on his shoulders). Dear 
George ! How good of you ! 

Mr. B. (irritated). Well, I couldn't let him bawl 
the house down, with Marjorie bad. Hadn't you 
better go and get her ready to see the doctor, my 
love ? 

Mrs. B. Y^es, I'm going now. And how about an 
answer to Aunt Clara, dear ? 

Mr. B. Oh ! send the lad away ! I'll take it to the 
post-office myself. 

Mrs. B. Very well ! 

Mr. B. By the way, give an eye to Claypool 's break- 



12 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

fast. He said something yesterday about preferring 
bacon and tomatoes to bacon and eggs. 

Mrs. B. (hands to head). Oh ! how forgetful of me ! 
How forgetful of you I I must remember — tomatoes, 
tomatoes, tomatoes ! (Exit down l.) 

Mr. B. (absently — sitting down at head of table). Cup 
of tea, doctor ? 

Dr. H. No, thank you. (Another tone.) By the way, 
your friend Mr. Claypool might like a game of bridge. 
If so, I can oblige him. 

Mr. B^ (loftily). I don't suppose he'll be staying here 
much longer. I shall be sorry when he goes, as he's 
such good company for the wife. I suppose I mustn't 
offer you a whisky and soda ? 

Dr. H. Thanks, indeed, but not quite so early. 

Mrs. B. (without, down l.). Marjorie's quite ready for 
you, doctor. 

Dr. H. (rising). Well — I'll be trotting upstairs. 

Mr. B. I'll show you the way. 

Exeunt down l. 

Enter by verandah, c, Claypool, a young, good-looking 
man. He is dressed in lounge suit and wears " pumps." 
The typical 'Varsity man. 

Claypool (dabbing at his-- chin with handkerchief). 
Beastly old saw, that razor ! Just like Birch, never to 
strop his razors! (Raises cover from dish.) Eggs and 
bacon ! This is getting chronic ! I must speak to 
Birch about it. Tea, too ! And I said I liked coffee. 
I must speak to Birch about it. (Sits down l. of table 
and opens newspaper.) Hang it ! " Pepperbox " run 
last again ! There goes my last sovereign. (Pulls out 
his money and counts it.) Half-a-crown ! — a penny with 
a hole in it, and a Kruger sixpence ! Well, I'm broke, 
that's clear. 

Enter Birch from down l. 

Mr. B. Morning, Claypool ! Had a good night ? 

Clay, (food on plate before him). Fairish. Beastly 
nightingales kept me awake- 

Mr. B. Breakfast to your liking ? 

Clay. Ye-es — ye-es. By the way, any melon left ? 

Mr. B. (crosses up to back). So sorry — not an atom. 
Apple any good ? 

Clay. No, thanks. I mayn't eat apples. Any 
greengage jam ? 

Mr. B. Greengage jam ! No. Sorry ! Wait a bit, 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 13 

[down R. of table) there's some calves' foot jelly in Mar- 
jorie's room. Care about that ? 

Clay, (with grimace). Wouldn't rob Madge for 
worlds ! By the way, how's the kiddie ? 

Mr. B. The doctor's with her now. (Crosses to 
bureau.) We'll soon know. (Looks at Claypool, then 
picks up telegram.) Ah! I was forgetting this. Aunt of 
ours wants to ccme. Awful nuisance. But you know 
what relatives are. (Hands telegram to Claypool.) 
You've got a fertile brain — anything to suggest ? 

Claypool (reading telegram). I'm a bit of a specialist 
at handling people like this. Where's the reply foim ? 
Mr. H. (gets it from bureau). Here you are. And a 
pencil. 

Clay. Thanks. Leave this to me, Birch. You and 
Madame are a little upset to-day, and don't want to be 
bothered, / can see. Just let me deal with your tele- 
grams, and you'll find I shall say everything that is nice 
and tactful. (Repeats words aloud, as he writes en fcim.) 
" Mrs. Truelove, Ivydene, Malvern. Greatly regret 
must postpone you, serious epidemic in village — writing. 
George." Hcw's that ? 

Mr. B. Eut, my dear man, there's no epidemic. 
Clay. What ! There are threats all ever the place. 
Mr. B. Is that so ? Dear me ! 

Clay, (rises — puis pencil in his pocket). There — just 
you tell Fanny to run up to the pest-cmee with that. 
'Of course, you don't want to offend your aunt, but that 
will quite satisfy htr. 

Mr. B. (comes to front of table — hesitating). Well,. of 

course, if it's as you say 

Clay. Go on, old man — send it off ! 

Exit Mr. Birch down l. slowly, studying telegram. 

Well, there are throats all over the place, and beer going 
down most of them. (Arranges paper against hot-water 
jug.) Anyhow, I've settled Aunt Clara's hash. Now 
about " Pepperbox." 

Enter Mr. Birch down l. 

Mr. B. (crosses below table to r. of it.) Any luck with 
the gees, Claypool ? 

Claypool. Went down yesterday. I say, it wouldn't 
be a bad idea to take in the Sportsman, would it ? 

Mr. B. (crosses to bureau). No, old chap — I'll order 
it at once. 

Birch makes a note on paper. 



14 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. *** 

Clay. And it's as well to see what the Sporting Life 
says. 

Mr. B. I'll order that, too. Been doing badly 
lately ? 

Clay. Broke to the wide, wide world ! Eight to 
one ! {Studying paper.) What a chance ! (Rises- — gets 
to bach of table.) Now, if I had a fiver 

Mr. B. (turns in chair). Sovereign any good, old 
man ? 

Clay, (goes to him). It's really awfully good of you — 

Mr. B. Not at all — not at all ! Here you are !' 
{Hands Claypool sovereign.) Hope it'll come off. 

Clay. You're a trump ! There's a little man in the 
village who does business with the bookies. I'll put it 
on with him. Give me an appetite for breakfast. 

Exit c. 

'Enter Mrs. Birch and Dr. Horne from down l. 

Mrs. B. And so we sent him up to Rowland Ward's 
to be stuffed. 

Dr. H. Hospitality indeed ! 

Mrs. B. You see, Mr. Claypool was so fond of his 
little dog — they were devoted to each other — it was 
pitiful to see him when he heard Bismarck had been run 
over by a motor. 

Mr. B. (turns in his chair). My good woman, Clay- 
pool didn't care a hang about the dog, and no wonder, 
for of all the miserable, vicious little mongrels I've ever 
met, commend me to Bismarck ! 

Mrs. B. George ! 

Mr. B. (rises — goes to table). Don't be a fool, Gay!" 
You know the animal was a perfect nuisance ! He 
killed two or three hens, and Marjorie's rabbit, he made 
the postman's life a terror to him, he lamed the cat next 
door, he's always been a thief, and he tried to bite you t 

Mrs. B. Poor little fellow ! 

Mr. B. He even snapped at me ! (Goes up stage, R.) 

Mrs. B. You shouldn't have teased him. 

Mr. B. (comes back to her). Teased him ! Do I ever 
tease anybody or anything ? I tell you, it's a good thing 
he's gone. He was a wretched mongrel not worth 
ninepence. 

Mrs. B. Oh, George, I'm ashamed of you. 

Mr. B. I'm ashamed of myself — I am ashamed of 
ever having allowed this man and his beastly dog to stay 
at my house. (Goei down stage a little.) I've only done 
it to oblige you ! 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 16- 

Mrs. B. (sits l. of table). Oblige me ! (To Dr. 
Horne.) Oh ! If you knew how he grumbled about 

being lonely (To Mr. Birch.) You know how glad 

you were when I asked Mr. Claypool to stay with us for 
a week (Birch goes up a step), being so uncomfortable at 
the Barltrops — you know how you brought out your 
whisky and cigars and told all your anecdotes — and you 
know I asked him because I thought he would be com- 
pany for you 

Mr. B. Company ! (Crosses front of table — to Dr. 
Horne). Why, I've done nothing but wait on the fellow 
hand and foot for weeks 

Mrs. B. Bare politeness, George. 

Mr. B. Bare politeness ! Do you call it bare polite- 
ness sitting up till two in the morning playing double 
dummy and losing every rubber ? Do you call it bare 
politeness playing singles with him at tennis in the blaz- 
ing sun, and losing every set ? Why, I've worked myself 
to a shadow amusing that man ! 

Mrs. B. He's done you good — you can't deny it. 
You were complaining about putting on weight. 

Mr. B. The truth of the matter is that you like hav- 
ing him here. He's one of those men that women like. 
Women always love wasters. 

Mrs. B. (rises). George ! (Crosses below table to r.) 

Mr. B. (goes to her a little). You were complaining of 
the dulness, and so I thought it would be a good idea ta 
let the fellow stay here a bit. I wish I'd never set eyes 
on him. 

Mrs. B. (turns — crosses towards him). And you pride 
yourself on your hospitality. 

Mr. B. Bosh! 

Mrs. B. (comzs to table). You are very rude, unkind 
and ungrateful. (Looks at table.) And why isn't he 
having his breakfast ? I must go and see what he's 
doing. (Crosses to Dr. Horne.) Poor boy, he's still 
upset about Bismarck. It has put him in one of his 
melancholy moods. 

Exit indignantly down l. 
Birch sits on chair r. of table. Enter Fanny r. 

Fanny. Two more telegrams, sir. (Hands them to 
Mr. Birch.) I met the boy in the road. He says they're 
reply paid, too ! - 

Mr. B. (opening telegrams). All right, Fanny. Tell 
him he needn't wait. 

Exit Fanny r. _ 



16 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Hullo ! more of my dear relatives. Listen to this, 
doctor. " Cannot understand your letter. Arranged to 
come this week. Please fix date. Glengarry." That's 
Sir Ralph, my wife's uncle, a bachelor and worth a hun- 
dred thousand if he's worth a penny. And he's full of 
gout. Now for the other. ' ' Am expecting to hear from 
you. Hope all well. Shall I come Saturday ? Mater." 
That's the wife's mother. She can't let herself go at a 
halfpenny a word, or she'd say a lot more, as she has the 
gift of eloquence. Well, I don't know what the deuce to 
say to 'em. Of course, it's this chap Claypool who's 
keeping them all out. If he'd go, I could take them in 
by turns, one down, t'other come up. You're a man of 
experience, doc — what do you advise ? (Goes to him— 
crosses him to fireplace.) 

Dr. H. I hardly know what to say ; Claypool doesn't 
seem inclined to budge, I take it ? 

Mr. B. Not an inch ! 

Dr. H. I fear I can't help you. 

Mr. B. (moodily). Seems to me I must shut the place 
up and go back to town. 

Dr. H. That would be a pity. It's doing you all a 
lot of good. 

Mr. B. (turns to him). Marjorie, for example ? 

Dr. H. Oh, she'll be all right in a few days. It's 
nothing very serious. (Picks up hat and gloves and whip 
from table by Chesterfield.) I certainly wish I could help 
you. As it is, I must be off now. I have to go my 
rounds, and then Lydia and I are going to a tennis 
party 

Mr. B. Lydia — that's your sister, isn't it ? 

Dr. H. My half-sister — Miss Neale. She's a nurse 
at St. Matthew's. 

Mr. B. (crosses down r.). Of course. You told me 
before. (Stops.) Look here ! I have an idea. 

Dr. H. What about ? 

Mr. B. (goes to Horne). Willie — Claypool, I mean, 
hang him ! (with a gesture.) Do you think your sister 
would help us ? 

Dr. H. How ? 

Mr. B. (thoughtfully). It's worth trying. Now, listen !.' 
Would she be our trained nurse for a day or two ? 

Dr. H. My dear man ! 

Mr. B. (stopping in front of him). It's like this. 
(very pleased with his idea). I insist on a trained nurse. 
Your sister arrives. His room will be wanted for her. 
Exit Claypool. What could be simpler ? 



COMPANY FOR GEO&GE. 17 

Dr. H. It's an idea, certainly. — I'll ask her. 

Mr. B. Will you ? " ' 

Dr. H. I will — but I can't promise she'll consent. 
She's down ior a rest, mind you. 

Mr. B. Give her a hint how matters stand, but don't 
mention any names. She needn't meet Claypool, but 
she might, so it will be as well to keep his name dark. 

Dr. H. Very good. I'll relate the sad story of hos- 
pitality abused and enlist her aid. I should think that 
she'd look upon it as good fun. 

Mr. B. Put it how you like. This chap must go, 
and an infectious illness will bring about the happy dis- 
patch — grand idea, eh ? 

Dr. H. It has its points. And now I must be going. 
{Holds out his hand.) Good-bye for the present. 

Mr. B. Good-bye. Do get her to help us. 

They shake hands. 

There's one thing more. I can talk to you as a man. 
The missis is just a wee bit inclined to be silly about this 
chap 

Dr. H. I see — I quite see. I'll do what I can. 

Mr. B. You're a real pal. 

Dr. Horne moves away. 

I'll tell Mrs. Birch at once that you think Marjorie ought 
to have a nurse, and then I'll take her out for a long trot. 
Then you whip your sister along, and instal her here. 
That'll mean Master Claypool will have to march at once. 

Dr. H. I'll do what I can, I promise you. 

Mr. B. Good ! (Shakes hands vigorously with Dr. 
Horne and pushes him off.) 

Exit Dr. Horne down l. 

It's an idea ! It's the idea of a century. (Crosses to 
bureau.) And now for these telegrams. (Sits down 
and pores over telegrams.) What the dickens can I say ? 
Well, this little scheme ought to shift him, so there'll be 
room for the old man. We'll chance it, anyhow. 
{Writes.) " Glengarry, Moat House, Cheltenham. Glad 
to see you on Wednesday. No room till then. George." 
There ! that's done. Now for mamma-in-law. We can 
stable her a week later. (Writes.) "Mrs. Glengarry, 
Hydro, Bexhill. Glad to see you Wednesday week. Sorry 
delay, but positively unavoidable. George." There, 
that's the two of 'em. Now if I get Claypool to take 
these up to the post-office, he can't help reading them. 
It'll be as broad a hint as man could give. _ 



18 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Enter Claypool — hat on — up l., lighting cigarette. 

(Rising.) Hullo ! Ah — by the way — Claypool, d'you? 
mind taking these telegrams up to the post-office when 
you've finished breakfast ? Sorry to trouble you, but 
Fanny's upstairs with Marjorie, Austin isn't about, and 
I've got a load of letters to write before lunch. 

Clay, (takes telegrams). Certainly, old chap ! I don't 
feel breakfasty, so I'll go at once. 

Mr. B. Thanks — awfully good of you. 

Exit down l. 

Clay, (reads telegram). " Glengarry, Moat House. 
Cheltenham. Glad to see you on Wednesday. No 
room till then. George." (Stares at telegram.) What's 
this ? Who's Glengarry ? — And why will there be 
room on Wednesday ? Does it mean that I've got to 
clear ? (Strikes an attitude.) That's it ; I've got to 
go. (Paces slowly down stage and takes photo from inside 
pocket.) And I've been waiting all these weeks to see 
you, Lydia. (Gazes at photo. Foot of table.) Sweet 
Lydia Neale, who flashed upon my young life at a May 
week ball ! Ah ! to think that all I know of you is that 
your name is Lydia Neale, and that your home is at 
Bishop's Dale ! So here I am, Lydia, waiting for you, in 
spite of the fact that I can't find anybody called Neale 
in the place. And wait for you I must, for I haven't the 
faintest idea as to where you are. . . . You said you'd be- 
here in August, and I've been here since the first. Now 
it's the twenty-fifth. (Puts photo in pocket and crosses* 
to bureau.) Let's see what the other telegram says. 
(Takes it up and reads.) " Mrs. Glengarry, Hydro, Bexhill. 
Glad to see you Wednesday week. Sorry delay, but 
positively unavoidable. George." So that's it, is it ? 
The first one's due on Wednesday, and the next in a 
week, and I'm to be shot out. (Takes out photo and' 
gazes ardently at it.) Never ! — Never will I say die. 
(Puts photo bacrk in, pocket.) Where's some telegram 
forms ? Here we are ! (Sits down and writes.) " Glen- 
garry, Moat House, Cheltenham. Must ask you to post- 
pone visit. Village flooded. Living in upper rooms. 
George." Now for the second Glengarry. (Gets up and 
searches table.) Yes,, here's the wire — handed in at Bex- 
hill. (Reads.) " Am expecting to hear from you. Hope 
all well. Shall I come Saturday. Mater." And they 
put her off a week. That'll make her wild, and it's level 
betting she'll turn up at once, no matter what they 
say. (Sits down.) This calls for something drastic. 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 19 

(Bites pencil thoughtfully.) Something drastic (Writes.) 
" Most sorry to put you off. House burnt down last 
night. George." {Gets up.) There ! That'll settle 
Mater ! I'll send 'em off before my conscience begins 
to prick me. 

Exits by path l., with telegrams. 

Enter Fanny down l. Goes to back of table. 

Fanny. And he's eaten no breakfast. Good job he 
]had some bread and butter with his early tea. ' 

Enter Mr. and Mrs. Birch down l. 

Mr. B. It's better, I tell you, to be on the safe side. 
Home has a nurse handy who can come at once. The girl 
I told you of — his sister — half-sister, rather. 

Mrs. B. But I'm sure it isn't necessary. 

Mr. B. Little woman, let me have my way. I wish 

Mrs. B. (sits in chair r. of table). Where can we put 
her? She can't sleep in Marjorie's tiny little room. 

Mr. B. (crosses to her). Oh! we'll find a corner for 
I her somewhere. (To r. of her.) Now come along down 
. into the village and get Claypool's cucumber. 

Mrs. B. (jumps up, .excited). What! no cucumber? 

Exit Fanny down l. with breakfast things. 

Mr. B. No ; and I've got to get him a tin of " Pioneer." 
He always forgets to buy tobacco. 

Mrs. B. And I must get some wool to match his 
socks. 

Mr. B. And I think he said he wanted some pipe- 
cleaners. 

Enter Fanny from down l., with deal box. 

Fanny. This box has just come, ma'am. 
Mr. Birch takes box, Fanny goes up stage ; Mrs. Birch 
looks at label. 

Mrs. B. From Rowland Ward's. It must be poor 
Bismarck. Open it, George. 

Mr. B. (puts box on table). Let him open it himself. 

Mrs. B. George ! Remember he is our guest. 

Mr. B. Does he ever let me forget it ? 

Mrs. B. We sent him to be stuffed, so of course we 
can open it. 

Mr. B. (takes out knife). Well, I suppose I'd better — 
just to keep the peace. (Prizes lid open.) Here we are ! 
That looks like the bill on top. (Takes out bill and 
hands box to Mrs. Birch.) Help! 



20 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Mrs. B. What is the matter, George ! 

Mr. B. Two pounds ten ! {Crosses to her.) 

Mrs. B. Very moderate ! (Takes small white dog 
out of box.) Poor little fellow ! Oh, I do feel for Mr. 
Claypool. 

Mr. B. Two pounds ten — do you hear ? And I've 
got to pay it. (Puts bill in pocket.) 

Mrs. B. Well, one must be polite to one's guests. 
Besides, you mu'st remember that he sard he would like 
to make Marjorie a present of the stuffed dog — as some 
return for our kindness. 

Mr. B. (crosses over to l. of box). At my expense ! 
(Snatching dog from her and crushing it into box.) Come 
on ! (About to exit up l., followed by Mrs. Birch.) 

Mrs. B. You needn't worry. I'll pay it out of the 
housekeeping monej^, so it won't cosi; you anything ! 

Exeunt. Enter Claypool r. 

Clay. I fancy I've rattled up the old dears a bit ! 
Bishop's Dale will receive a bye this August. (Sees box.) 
Hullo \ why, it's poor old Bizzy ! (Takes dog out.) 
Well, you do look nice, Bizzy ! Fatter than ever you 
di t in life. Dear old chap ! Confound that motor ! 
I'd like to wring the fellow's neck. (Dramatically.) I'd 
like to fix him down on the road, Bizzy, and get up top 
speed, and run over him, and come back and run over 
him again and 

Enter down l., Dr. Horne and Lydia Neale in Nurse's 
costume. 
Dr. H. Ahem \ 

Lydia, gives a start, unseen by Dr. Horne. 

Clay, (turning confusedly, as he replaces dog in box) . 
Oh, I — er — beg pardon — I 

Dr. H. Don't mention it. This is — er — my sister — 
Miss Neale. She is going to nurse Marjorie. 

Clay, (staring at her). Er — oh, yes ! (Bows.) Yes ! 
(Laughs awkwardly.) 

Dr. H. I think it as well Marjorie should have a 
nurse. Is Mrs. Birch about ? 

Clay. Gone out, I think. (Stares at Lydia.) I'll — 
I'll look for her. 

Dr. H. Very good of you. 

Claypool goes to door down l., turns, then Exit. 

That, Lydia, old girl, is the gentleman you've got to 
evict. (Looking at door down l.) 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 21 

Lydia. He seems very harmless. 

Crosses to r. of table ; looks round room.. 

Dr. H. Harmless ! He only keeps Birch chasing 
about like a page-boy all day long ! 

Lydia {laughing). It must be rather funny. 

Dr. H. It's a serious matter for Birch, as I tokl you. 
His relatives are simply wild at being put off. Now, I 
shall expect you to back me up, Lyd. I must keep in 
with these Birch people. They know everybody here. 

Lydia {goes to him). Don't worry, old boy. I'll do 
my best. I'll be simply horrid to him. 

Dr. H. That's right. He'll try and flirt with you, of 
course, but I expect you'll know how to handle him. 
In any case, he can't stay, as you will have to have his 
room ! 

Lydia {reluctantly — leans on front of table)-. Itxioesn't 
seem very kind to the poor fellow, does it ? 

Dr. H. {irritably). My good girl, the ** poor " fellow's 
like an influenza germ — very easy to get into the system, 
but infernally hard to get out of it. You'll play the 
game, Lyd — promise. 

Lydia {hands on him). I'd do anything in the world 
to helfj my brother. 

Dr. H. Bravo! {Passes her over to l.) Now trot up 
and see your patient, and then there isn't the slightest 
reason why you shouldn't go out and get all the fresh air 
you can. No necessity to martyr yourself. 4 

{Exeunt down l.) 

{Enter by window c. Austin. He is a rough, unkemp 
youth about sixteen. Wears old dark trousers and 
waistcoat : grey flannel shirt with sleeves turned up. 
Wears cap ; no collar. Puts pots of flowers in window, 
R\ of French windows. With watering-can he proceeds to^ 
water the flowers in window. As he does so he whistles 
" I love a Lassie." Enter Claypool, hurriedly, up l. 
Austin touches cap and exit c.) 

Clay. I can't find Mrs. Birch anywhere — hullo \ 
they've gone. {Sinks into Chesterfield.) By Jove ! 
What a start ! To think — {gets up and paces room) 
to think I should have been hanging about here for four 
weeks in order to meet a girl, and in she walks. What, 
luck ! {Sinks into chair and wipes forehead.) What 
stupendous luck ! {Dreamily.) And looking prettier 
than ever ! I'll take her to the races. . . . Get Birch 
to hire a wagonette. (Pulls out coins.) Confound it, I'm 



22 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

dashed hard up, . . . And I daren't bleed Birch any 
more. What's to be done ? {Takes dog out of box.) 
Yes, they have made a good job of yon, Bizzy ! (Sound! 
Of motor-horn off.) You look very like a live dog — very 
like. No one would think you were stuffed. (Sits down.) 
Very like a live dog, I must say.. (Motor horn off.) I've 
an idea ! (Hand to chin, considering). 

Austin passes outside, whistling. 

No one would suspect. (Looks about.) No one about 
except that lad. (Watches Austin watering flowers.) 
And a boy who can whistle the same tune all day long 
must be a born idiot. (Atwindcws, c.) Hello ! Austin ! 

Austin (looking round). Yezzur ? 

Clay. Do you know any other tune to whistle ? 

Austin. No, zur. (Goes on whistling.) 

Clay. As I thought — a born idiot. (Looks out of 
window, r.) No one else about . . . I'll risk it. . . . 
Plenty of motors going to the races. ... I'll risk it. 
(Goes to table, takes string with which box was fastened and. 
iies one end to leg of dog. As he ties it) — Not a hair of 
your body shall be touched, Bizzy, yet you shall be run 
over and over and over. Without the house (dramatic- 
ally) there is a sharp curve, and on the near side of fthC 
curve there is a bank whereon the wild thyme grows; 
and on that bank you shall be landed before any wheel 
can disturb the harmony of your contour. 

[Motor-horn off. Exit r., dog in ahns. As he goes out 
Austin puts down watering-can and rushes to window 
R., watclws Claypool for a few moments, then takes up 
can and exit c.) 

Enter Claypool, door r. 

Clay. Yes, what the road has taken the road shall 
give back. (At c. to Austin.) Look here, boy, I feel 
like exercise, so I'll do some Watering for you. Go and 
have a sleep in the summer house. 

Austin (grinning, as he gives tan to Claypool). 
Thank'ee, zur. 

Goes off to r. of c. whistling tune as before. 

Clay, (watering flowers in French windows). A just 
revenge. It may not be the man who ran over 'Bizzy, 
but they're £.11 alike. It matters little to them what 
they run over. Yes, the road has taken Bizzy, and the 
road shall repay me an hundred fold. 

Enter Lydia, from down l. 3 with book- 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE- 23 

His spirit {brandishes can, turning to audience ; doesn't see 
Lydia.), frisking in the doggy shades, shall bark with 
joy when it beholds its earthy shell arrest the road-hog 
in full career. (Turns suddenly and sprinkles water on 
Lydia's skirt.) Oh ! I beg your pardon— I — er — I — 
had no idea you were there ! 

Lydia (coldly). It is of no consequence. 

Clay, (putting can down). But it is of consequence. 
Please sit down. Let me wipe your skirt for you, 
(Lydia sits l. of Chesterfield. He wipes skirt with .hand- 
kerchief.) There, I think that's better. All right now, 
I think. (Changes manner suddenly, drops on knees and 
seizes Lydia's hand. Lydia, darling, it's fate ! 

Lydia (very coldly). Please get up and don't be silly. 

Clay, (still holding her hand). But — but — you remem- 
ber that night at Cambridge ? 

Lydia. Please get <up. 

Clay, (getting up slowly) . But you must remember it ! 

Lydia. I remember meeting you, certainly. 

Clay. And telling me you would be spending your 
holidays at Bishop's Dale ? 

Lydia. Did I tell you that ? (Determined to help 
her brother.) Well, it was a very ordinary remark to 
make. I daresay I told some of my other partners the 
same thing. 

Clay, (sitting down r. of Chesterfield). Oh, come now, 
I don't suppose you told another soul. 

Lydia (irritably). Well, it was of no consequence 
whether I did or not . . . and may I be allowed to 
;go on with my book ? 

Clay. No ! You may remember I said something 
rather — er — important to you while we were sitting out 
the third extra ? 

Lydia. Do you think I take any notice of what a 
boy says when he is excited with champagne ? (Reads.) 

Clay, (fervently). It was you I found intoxicating. 

Lydia. Please don't go on like this, or I shall have 
to go ; and I want to read my book. 

Clay, (sliding along to her end). Wouldn't it be nice 
to read it together ? (By her side.) 

Lydia (snatches book away). I do not think it would 
be nice at all — and would you please go away ? 

Clay. I can't. When I talk to you I feel like a nib 
talking to a magnet. Do you know what happens to the 
nib ? 

Tries to put his arm round her waist. Lydia springs up. 
Don't be angry ! 



£4 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Lydia. I am angry ! 

Clay. I'm sorry. I beg your pardon. (Rising.) 
I'll go. (Retires slcwly towards door r.) 
Lydia (sitting down). Thank you. 

(Claypool stands irresolutely, but as she remains silent 
he makes a slow exit by door r.) 

(throwing down book.) What am I to do ? (Rises, goes 
towards table.) I've got to help Dickie, and yet (stops at 
table and takes rose out of bowl) yet — (pins rose over her 
heart) and yet 

(Exit slowly by windows, c.) 
(Noise of motor off, and voices speaking loudly. Enter by 
door, R., Claypool, bearing dog in his arms, followed by 
Colonel Spring, in motoring costume — cap,, goggles, 
dust coat and leggings : both excited and speaking to- 
gether. While this scene is in progress, Austin should 
be heard whistling now and then, but not loud enough 
to take attention from stage.) 

Clay. I tell you you've killed my dog, sir. 

Colonel. I sounded my horn — : — 

Clay. You've killed my dog — a priceless animal. 

Colonel. I sounded my horn and the beggar didn't 
move. 

Clay. You were driving too fast. You shall answer 
for this, sir. A pedigree dog, sir 

Colonel. I sounded my horn. 

Clay, (turns on him). Hang your horn ! You've 
killed my dog, and you shall answer for it. I'll have your 
licence cancelled. 

Colonel. Don't talk nonsense, sir. 

Clay. A pedigree dog, sir. (Looking at dog.) Poor 
old Bismarck ! Poor old fellow ! (Sadly.) There's not 
a breath in him. 

Colonel. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but he must have 
been asleep. 

Clay, (furiously). Asleep ! Do you think my dog 
was in the habit of going to sleep in the middle of the 
road ? 

Colonel. I sounded my horn. 

Clay. What was the good of sounding your horn 
after you'd killed him ? 

Colonel (up to him). Sir, d'you take me for a fool ? 

Clay. Well, can you produce evidence that you're 
not one. A man who drives at fifty miles an hour 

Colonel. I was crawling alongj sir. 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 25 

Clay. So was my dog, but you crawled faster. (Lays 
dog en table, sits dewn and bends head ever it.) Poor old 
Bismarck ! — every bene broken ! Dear o 7 d chrp ! 
Ah ! Bizzy, never again will you and I trrirp the mccrs 
— never again will you bring the wounded plover to my 
feet, or nose into the rushes after the water-fowl. (In a 
broken voice.) Bizzy ! Bizzy ! Good-bye, old friend — 
the only true friend I ever had. 

Colonel (goes to him). Nonsense ! you don't cali 
that a sporting dog, sir ? 

Clay (sorrowfully, bending over dog). He's eaten his 
last Spratt. 

Colonel (fumbling in pocket). Oh, well — I suppose 
you want compensation. Er — shall we say — ~-^- (Pulls 
out pocket-book.) 

Clay (waving him off as he rises). Don't insult me, 
sir. Money can never make good this loss. 

Colonel. But I insist. 

Clay. Well — I should like to preserve the body. If 
you will defray the cost 

Colonel. Certainly — certainly. Shall we say five 
pounds ? 

Clay. As you like. 

Austin passes outside : sees this. 

Colonel (handing him bank note). Well, sir, that 
settles it. (Aside.) Confounded swindle ! (Aloud, sar- 
castically.) As a rule, I like to keep the bodies of the 
dogs I run over, if I have to pay for them 

Clay, (goes right up to him — furiously). I would not 
let you have my dog for a hundred pounds. 

Colonel. No, I'd see to that. Well, sir, I wish you 
a very good-morning. (Going to door, R.) 

Clay. Good-morning — and let me implore you to 
drive more carefully in future. 

Colonel. I was crawling along — but I won't argue. 
Good-morning, sir, and confound you, sir. (Exasper- 
ated.) I sounded my horn ! 

Exit r., furiously. 

Clay, (dropping dog into box). It's the only way to 
get even with these road-hogs. (Looks at note) After 
all, I never asked him for anything. . . . Now, what 
about a drink ? 

Rings bell by fireplace. 
Enter Fanny down l. 

Fanny. Yes<, sir ? 

Clay. Bring me a whisky and soda. (By Chesterfield.) 



26 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Fanny. Yes, sir. (Going down l.) 

Clay. And, Fanny ! 

Fanny. Yes, sir ? 

Clay. Mr. Birch's cigars — the small flat box-. 

Fanny. Yes, sir. (Going.) 

Clay. And a cushion. 

Fanny. Certainly, sir. (Going.) 

Clay. And that novel Mrs. Birch is reading, Love 
and Dartmoor. 

Fanny. Yes, sir. 

Clay. Wait, though. Bring two cushions while 
you're about it. 

Fanny (resigned to many orders). Yes, sir. 
Exit by door down l. 

Clay, (stretching himself on Chesterfield). " Sweetest 
nut hath sourest rind" — very sour it is sometimes. 
Heigho ! she'll come round in time ! (Taking out note- 
book.) Let's see what's ahead. Flower Show on the 
27th. (Reading from circular.) There will be foot races, 
tent-pegging by the Yeomanry — and — ye gods ! walk- 
ing the greasy pole for a fat pig ! Dear old Flower Show ! 
I'm a runner — I mean walker — for that pig. I'll borrow 
some old things from Birch — make a note of that — 
(Makes entry in note-book.) I must win that pig. I'll 
take it back to Cambridge and make it the College pet. 
I can see it grunting round the quad and tripping the 
dons up. I'm for the pig ! 

Enter Fanny with cushion, whisky decanter, syphon* 
glasses, box of cigars, matches, and a book, which she 
places on table by Chesterfield. 

Exit up l. 

Well-trained girl that ! (Pours out whisky.) With all 
her faults Mrs. Birch does know how to choose servants. 
(Opens cigar box.) Now for a quiet smoke. 

Noise of motor off. Business. Claypool pauses with 
hand on cigar-box, listening. Glides to table, takes dog 
out of box, and glides off r. 

Enter Fanny up l. with cushion. 
Fanny. He said two cushions. (Puts second cushion 
on Chesterfield.) There, now he'll be comfortable both 
ends ! My ! he does know what he wants. (Takes up 
book.) I wonder whether Lady Lucy will marry the 
baronet when he comes out of Portland, where he's been 
wrongly put ! (Sits down by table and opens book.) 
It's awkward him wanting to read the book when me 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 27 

arid Cook are both reading it, unbeknown to the missus. 
I think I'll look at the end. (Reads.) 

Enter Austin c, whistling. 

Austin (seeing Fanny). 'Ullo ! 

Fanny. Well ? 

Austin picks up watering-can and waters flowers in 
windows, whistling. 
I do wish you'd think of another tune. 

Austin (coming to a stop opposite Fanny, and putting 
down can). Do yer ! Now if it was Mister Claypool 'e 
could whistle the same toon 1 all day, and you wouldn't 
mind. 

Fanny. No, nor all nighl 'E isn't a garden boy ! 

Austin (close to her). Did y6u £et my poetry ? 

Fanny. Yes, and tore it up. 

Austin (vindictively). Yo're in lov6 witfr that Clay.-* 
pool feller ! 

Fanny. Mr. Claypool, if you please. Don't W 
impertinent. 

Austin (lighting cigar). A lot I care for 'im ! 

Fanny. That's stealing. Do you know where people 
go who steal ? (Crosses below little table to l. of Austin.) 

Austin. Quod! (Drinks Claypool's whisky.) 'Ere's 
a early death to 'im ! 

Fanny. Oh, you wicked boy ! I'll tell the master. 

Austin. Cat ! 

Exit Fanny down l. 
Sound of horn, off. Austin peeps through door R., and 

exit quickly, c. Voices off. Enter Claypool by door 

r., bearing dog, followed by Lord Michaelmas. The 

latter is an elderly, grey-haired man, dressed in motoring 

costume. He wears a dejected expression, speaks in a 

soft voice, and makes constant gestures with his hands. 

When they come in he follows Claypool about trying to 

look at dog ; Claypool avoids him.) 

Clay. Not a breath in him, as I say. 

Lord Michaelmas. I am truly sorry, my dear sir. 
I cannot express my regrets. I have never run over 
anything before in my life. 

Clay. Then you've broken your duck at last. 

Lord M. It is such a sharp, nasty turn 

Clay. It gave my dog one. 

Lord M. Dear, dear ! (Following him ; Claypool 
avoids him.) And a valuable animal, I suppose ? Dear 
dear! (Handing Claypool his card.) TLhis is one ot 
many misfortunes, my good sir. I can't get a penny 



28 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

out of my tenants. (Crosses Claypool to l.) Ah ! these 
are bad times for landlords. 

Clay, (looking at card — aside). A lord, and a landed 
one, by Lloyd-George ! (Aloud.) But you can afford 
a motor-car ? 

Lord M. My dear sir, I took it for a bad debt. lam 
not a motorist by inclination. And I can barely afford 
to pay for the petrol. Still, it's cheaper than corn. It 
is a struggle indeed to buy either. When I'm working 
the motor, the horse has to do as well as it can on grass. 
(Up to Chesterfield.) 

Clay, (aside). Poor — old — Johnny ! (Goes back to 
little table. Aloud.) This is bad hearing, my lord. 
(Touching decanter.) May I help you to something ? 
Sit down, won't you ? 

LordM. Thank you, thank you. (SitsL. of Chesterfield.) 

Clay, (pouring out whisky.) Say when. 

Lord Michaelmas says nothing. 

Say when. (Goes on pouring.) Say when, my lord. 

Lord M. (slowly, when Claypool has half filled a large 
tumbler). " When," my youug friend, " when." A very 
little soda, thank you. (Drinks.) This is indeed return- 
ing good for evil. 

Claypool hands him cigars. 
Thank you — thank you ! Would you mind if I kept 
this to smoke after lunch ?. 

Clay. Not at all. Have another. Have two or 
three. They're not bad. 

Lord M. (taking cigars). Thank you, thank you. 
(Puts cigars in pocket.) Yes, as I was saying, times are 
bad in this part of the country. In addition to not 
paying t leir rent, my tenants actually sue me for not 
making their beastly barns water-tight. (Sips whisky.) 
But I try to hold my head high, sir — I try to. My 
servants still wear livery. 

Clay, (helping himself to whisky). Good! The old 
Plantagenet blood. 

Lord M. Exactly. What a sympathetic fellow you 
are ! You must come over and see me. I'll send my 
car for you. I can't ofter you any shooting, or any- 
thing of that sort, bat there are som2 nici walks in the 
neighbourhood. 

Clay. You are too kind. 

Lord M. (rises — finishing his whisky). Come after 
lunch one day. 

Clay. I shall be most happy, my lord. 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 29 

Lord M. [drinking Claypool's whisky). Not at all, 
not at all. 

Clay. Is there anything else you would like ? An 
apple, say ? Do make yourself at home. 

Lord M. Nothing else, thank you. You'll come and 



see me 



Clay. Any day suit your lordship ? 

Lord M. Any day after to-morrcw fortnight. Well, 
I must be getting along. (Crosses table c. to r. of it.) 

Clay. And — er — the dog ? 

Lord M. The dog ! Oh, I had forgotten. Well now, 
look here, my dear sir, suppose I send you another dog 
instead ? I have several. 

Clay. That will be very kind of your lordship. 

Lord M. (at door, r.). Don't mention it. I'll send it 
over to-morrow morning. I'll send my footman with it. 
And now I'll be getting on. Would you mind coming 
an 1 giving my car a push behind ? It starts better 
with help. 

Clay. Certainly, my lord. (As they go.) I know 
that sort of car. They don't mention this peculiarity 
in the advertisements. 

Exeunt r., talking. 

Enter down l.Mr. and Mrs. Birch, the latter with hat on, 
and Dr. Horne. They are laden with parcels. 

Mr. B. (laying down parcels on table, a). Well, 
that's a relief ! Put 'em on the sofa, doctor. Willie's 
been making himself at home, I see. Had company, 
too, by- all appearances. (Holds up decanter and looks 
at whisky.) 

Mrs. B. {indignantly). Don't be so mean, George ! 
Why shouldn't he make himself at home ? 

Mr. B. (with a hard laugh). Yes, why shouldn't he ? 
He'll begin to think this house is his, soon. (Opens cigar 
box — to Dr. Horne.) I give seventy-five shillings a 
hundred for these cigars and he blows 'em away as if 
they were Woodbines. 

Mrs. B. Remember, George, he's taking his holiday. 
(Mr. Birch and Dr. Horne are close by her.) 

Mr. B. And most other things as well. 

Mrs. B. Well, he's been splendid company for you, 
and you can't deny it. And he plays with Marjorie^ 
and i^n't a bit of trouble. (Drops parcel.) 

Mr. B. (picking up parcel). Not a bit! 

Mrs. B. (dropping another parcel). What should we 
have done without him ? 



30 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Mr. B. {picking up parcel). We should have taken a 
bit of a holiday ourselves, I fancy. 

Mrs. B. {going towards verandah). Why, he's been 
the life and soul of the house. {Drops some tomatoes out 
of bag ; they roll about the floor.) 

Mr. B. {grovelling on floor after the tomatoes). And 
the appetite. 

Mrs. B. George, this is mean of you — mean. You 
know he's not been a bit of trouble ! {Examines net 
hanging on her wrist.) George !' 

Mr. B. {startled). Yes ? 

Mrs. B. {looking in bag). Yes — yes — we have ! 
We've forgotten his phospherine ! Oh, his poor brain A 
His poor brain. {Exit down l.). 

Mr. B. {still grovelling). Here, doctor, give us a hand 
with these things. 

Dr. H. {picking up tomatoes). Well, you'll be rid of 
him by to-morrow. {Significantly.) Marjorie's nurse 
has arrived. {At exit, down l.) 

Mr. B. Good man ! Now to spring it on Claypool. 
{Exeunt down l.) 

Enter Claypool by door r., reading card. 

Clay. " The Earl of Michaelmas, Shellback Abbey:" 
Well, the dear old buffer seems to have got all the change, 
so far. I see him sending another dog ! Still, this won't 
do. I must have another go. 

Austin, whistling, passes window, r. of c. 
I must get that genius out of the way again. [At door 
down r.) Hi ! Come in here. 

Austin. Yezzur ? {Enter c, with can ; comes down 
to Claypool towards door r.) 

Clay. If you will whistle that beastly tune, go some- 
where else and whistle it. (Austin close to him.) Dp 
you hear ? 

Austin {impudently). I ain't going to take no orders 
from you. 

Claypool. What! I'll report you v to Mr. Birch if 
I have any cheek from you. 

Austin {putting down can) Will yer ? {Folds his 
arms and faces Claypool.) 

Clay. Yes. 

Austin. And suppose I tell 'im what I saw you doing 
{points to it) with that little stuffed dorg ? 

Clay. Eh ? What do you mean ? 

Austin {in a .threatening manner; points off, R.). 
Putting 'im down; in the road and pretending 'e wos alive. 
r If you don't give me a share, I'll split on yer. 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 31 

Clay, {calmly). To whom ? 

Austin. To the first gent as ran over 'im — Colonel 
Spring. Ts brother lives 'ere. I'll tell 'im. 

Clay, (very calmly). Oh ! You'll tell Colonel Spring's- 
brother ? 

Austin. Yuss — if yer don't give me a share ! 

Clay (coolly). It appears, Austin, that you have all 
the makings of a finished blackmailer about you. (Takes 
him by neck and points him towards door, r.) All you 
want is opportunity — all you're going 'to get from me 
is that ! (Kicks him out by door r., and throws can after him. 
Wipes hands on handkerchief.) It would seem that Austin 
is not quite such a fool as he looks. (Picks tip box.) 
It would be as well, perhaps, to put Bismarck away. 
(Goes towards c.) 

Enter Mr. Birch, up l. ; comes down l. of table.) 

Mr. B. Oh, there you are, Claypool. I was looking 
for you. 

Clay (putting box down). Very nice of you. (Com- 
ing down to him.) Will you hide now ? 

Mr. B. (coldly). It's not a joking matter. I just 
wished to tell you that we've had to get a nurse for 
Marjorie. 

Clay, (down to r. of him). I'm sorry to hear the kid's 
as bad as that. Well, you'll be wanting a room for the 
nurse, so I'll turn out. 

Mr. B. (surprised). It is really very good of you to 
suggest it — of course, we should have been only too glad 
for you to have stayed — (They are right down to front 
.of stage, in c.) 

Clay. That's all right. (Claps him on the back.) 
That's all right. I don't want to be a bit of worry to 
you. Shove up a tent and I'll camp out on the lawn. 

Mr. B. (backs from him). A — a tent ? But we haven't 
got a tent. 

Clay. You can soon get one. It'll always come in 
useful. 

Mr. B. How ? When ? 

Clay. Well, I'm sure to pop down next year ! 

(Birch steps back, dismayed. Claypool smiling} 
Curtain. 



<■ 




<~ 



** CO 



—III- 




ACT II. 

Scene. — Exterior of " Wee Neste," lawn. 

Time. — The forenoon of the next day. 

IMr. Birch and Austin, both in shirt sleeves, are dis- 
covered fixing ropes of small tent, r. of lawn. 

Mr. B. {inside tent). Now, pull on that rope, boy. 

Austin, above tent, out of sight, pulls rope. Tent sways 
over ; Mr. Birch comes out of tent. 

Not that one — that one. (Points to it.) Put the loop 
round the peg. Wait a moment, though — I must pull 
on this side. Now — pull ! 

Austin pulls and the tent sways violently over towards 
him. 

Steady, my lad, you're pulling too hard. {Pulls on rope 
himself, and tent sways over to his side.) Pull, will you ! — 
Pull ! 

Austin {pulling.). It don't seem to want to come, 
sir. 

Mr. B. {angrily). Don't talk nonsense. Pull, I 
say ! 

Austin pulls, and part of tent falls on to him. Mr. 
Birch crosses to l. 

There ! I thought you would do that. 

Austin {struggling from under the canvas.) You said 
pull, and I pulled, sir. 

Mr. B. (furiously, mopping his brow). But it isn't a 
tug-of-war. 

Austin. Best tie one rope to the tree yonder, sir. 

Mr. B. Very well. 

Austin struggles with rope at back. 
Enter Mrs. Birch, knitting, by verandah. 

Mrs. B. (on steps). Oh, what are you doing ! Mr. 
Claypool doesn't want the door of the tent facing towards 
the house. Turn it round, George. (Crosses to them.) 

Mr. B. (wiping forehead with sleeve). No fear ! We've 
had job enough getting it up like this. If Claypool 
wants it turned round he can turn it round himself. 

Mrs. B. (severely). George ! 

Mr. B. It's all very well for you to talk, but you 
don't know what tricky things these tents are. 



M COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Enter Claypool by verandah. He is dressed in flannels, 
or light suit, and is smoking a cigarette. 

Clay, {pausing on steps). Hullo ! getting on with if ? 

Mr. B. {gruffly). Yes. It's a bit of a job, though. 

Clay, {leaning against pillar of verandah). Let me 
give you a hand. 

Mr. B. Oh, it's up now, thanks. 

Mrs. B. {looking, into tent). But we've got nothing in 
it yet. (Austin crosses at back). Don't go, Austin. 
{He stops.) Now, the first thing to do is to bring down 
the camp bed. Better get it down, George, while you 
are in the mood ! {Sits down on garden seat, at end near 
tent.) 

Mr. B. {to Mrs. Birch). In the mood ! I like that f 

Exit by verandah, mopping his brow, Austin follows 
him. 
Claypool sits down on garden seat. 

Mrs. B. Oh, it does seem hard for you to have to 
sleep out of doors, Mr. Claypool, but there's no help for 
it. {Drops ball of wool.) 

Clay, {languidly, as he picks up wool),. My good lady, 
I am only too pleased. Give me the simple life. 

Mrs. B. {as she takes wool). Oh, how sweet of you. 
{Smiles on him.) Well, we shall try and make yow as 
comfortable as possible, depend upon that,, and we shall 
have you back in the house as soon as ever Marjorie's 
nurse has gone. 

Clay. I rather like this tent idea. Shouldn't mind 

staying in it till I — er {Offering her cigarette case.) 

Will you try a cigarette ? 

Mrs. B. Thanks, but I only smoke when I have 
neuralgia. I must say it is very obliging of you to sleep 
out of doors like this. But I don't tiling it is alto- 
gether safe. Suppose burglars came ? 

Clay. Oh, I shall have a revolver under my pillow. 
Don't be alarmed. 

Enter, from verandah, Austin and Mr. Birch, with 
camp bed, which they carry into tent. 

Clay. Do let me give you a hand, old man. 

Enter Fanny, from verandah, carrying bedclothes. 

Mrs. B. Oh, dear, no ; you really mustn't trouble 
yourself. You are our guest, remember. {Goes towards 
tent.) Now the chest of drawers {drops wool), and see 
that all Mr. Claypool's things are put in it (Clayfool 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 36 

picks up wool), and bring down his bath, too, and Sponge 
and towels. 

Clay, (as she returns from tent). You've dropped your 
ball of wool. 

Mrs. B. Oh, how sweet of you. (Smiles on him.) 

Fanny, Mr. Birch, and Austin emerge from tent and 
go indoors. Mr. Birch mopping his brow.) 

(Sitting down on seat.) I do wish we could make things 
a little livelier for you, Mr, Claypool,. Bishop's Dale is 
all very well for us old folk 

Clay, (gallantly). Dear l%dy> I always think of you as 
Birch's child-wife. 

Mrs. B. Oh! 

Clay. As for liveliness,, the outlook is promising. 
The Flower Show's coming on, and I'm going to have a 
try for the greasy pole. A pig is the prize. I want to 
take it back to Cambridge with me. 

Mrs. B. Oh, you need not go to all that trouble ; 
we can get you a pig quite moderately. 

Clay. It will be hardly the same thing to take back 
a pig I'd,, bought. There would be no romance about it. 
Winning a pig by walking a greasy pole, now, would 
make a man a bit of a blood, don't you know. 

Mrs. B. Oh, I do wish you'd let us get you one ! 

Clay. I suppose Birch could lend me some old 
things ? 

Mrs. B. Well, if you are bent on it, I will look you 
some out, but I do hope you won't be drovvned ! 

Clay. I fancy I shall manage to keep afloat. They're 
bound to have life-belts on the bank. Hello ! here's 
Maple & Co. again. 

Enter from verandah, Fanny and Austin, carrying 
chest of drawers, and Mr. Birch with hip-bath, towels, 
sponge and towel rail. They take them into tent. 

Mrs. B. (going towards tent). That's right, people. 
(Drops wool.) Now, don't forget the looking-glass, and 
you must bring out a lamp in case Mr. Claypool wants to 
read at night. 

Fanny, Austin and Mr. Birch emerge from tent, and 
go indoors by verandah, Mr. Birch mopping forehead. 
Claypool picks up wool and remains standing. 

And don't forget his dressing-gown, George, and his bed- 
room slippers, and you . might bring out a tin of biscuits. 
(Returns to Claypool.) 



56 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Clay, {handing her wool). You've dropped your ball 
of wool. 

Mrs. B. {smiling). Oh, how sweet of you f (As they 
sit down.) Well, it will only be for a night ©r two. I 
hope you won't get rheumatism. By the way, you will 
be here for the otter hunt, won't you ? You'd better 
borrow George's shooting boots and stockings. 

Clay. Oh, that's all right. I'm afraid poor old 
George will begin to think me rather an infliction. 

Mrs. B- Oh, dear, no \ Think what eompany youfve 
been for him ! He was saying only last night that he'd 
lave been bored to death without you. At least, he 
said you would keep anybody on the move, which is 
the same thing. 

Clay. George has an ambiguous way of putting" 
things. Somehow, d'you know, Mrs. Birch, I some- 
times think I'm a bit in the way here {Crosses to R.) 
Yes — I'm in the way. 

Mrs. B. [goes down to him). Now don't — don't. You 
hurt me. You are getting into your melancholy mood. 
Willie — Mr. Claypool, I mean — listen ! 

Clay (without looking at her). Yes ? (Choke in- 
voice.) 

Mrs. B. Never say or think anything of that sort 
again. We are only too glad to have you. Indeed, we 
hope you will come and spend Christmas with us at 
our flat in town. 

Clay, (turns and takes both her hands). You are a 
dear, good little woman. I shall come with pleasure. 

Enter from verandah Mr. Birch with dressing-gown 
over his arm and a pair of boots in each hand, Fanny 
■ with lamp, and Austin with a pile of books. Fanny 
- and Austin cross above seat into tent. Mr. Birch 
sees Mrs. Birch and Claypool together and drops- 
boots with a bang. 

Mrs. Birch. Oh, George, do be careful. (Mr. 
Birch pick? up boots and goes into tent.) 

Clay. I say, they are doing the thing thoroughly. 

Walks towards tent. Austin and Fanny exeunt above- 
seat into house. 

Mrs. B. (following him). We want you to be comfort- 
able, you see. Now perhaps you had better go indoors 
and see whether there is anything else you would like 
brought down. Don't hesitate to say. (Enters tent.) 

Clay, (inspecting interior of tent). Well, upon my 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 37 

word, I think that bar a box of matches the place is 
perfect. I'll go and hunt up some matches. 

Exit by verandah. Mr. Birch comes out of tint and sits 

on seat. 

Enter Dr. Horne above house, l. 

Dr. Horne {to Mr. Birch). Ah, here you are 1 Put- 
ting up a tent ? That's a good idea. 'Somewhere to sit 
when the house is stuffy. 

Mr. B. This is Claypool's bed-sitting-room, my dear 
boy. 

Dr. H. Eh ? 

Mr. B. We've put it up for Claypool. [Gesticulates 
towards tent to tell Dr. Horne some one is there.) When 
he heard that a nurse was coming, he very naturally 
offered to give up his room, and said he would camp out 
on the lawn. 

Dr. H. (dismayed). What! hasn't he gone? 

Mr. B. Obviously not. ^ 

Dr. H. (annoyed ; going down r.) But this is ridicu- 
lous ! 

Mr. B. It's only for a day or two, of course. We shall 
probably get him a room in the village. (Points to tent 
and makes warning signs which Dr. Horne evidently 
doesn't understand.) 

Dr. H. Look here, Birch, what is all this nonsense ? 
My sister's on her holidays, and I'm not going to have her 
cooped up here until this fellow chooses to take his 
departure. (Crosses him' to r.) It's ridiculous ! 

Mr. B. (making frantic signs). What do you mean ? 

Dr. H. The only thing to do is to tell Mrs. Birch all 
about it and get her to give Claypool his conge. 

Mrs. B. (appearing at door of tent). Tell Mrs. Birch 
all about what ? (Moves out and confronts them.) There 
seems to be something mysterious in the air. What is it? 

Mr. B. (laughing awkwardly). Nothing, nothing. 

Dr. H. Nothing. 

Mrs. B. (between them). You look very guilty. Dr. 
Horne. What do you mean by " all about it " ? 

Dr. H. My dear madame, a mere joke between Birch 
and myself. 

Mr. B. (with forced laugh). Ha ! ha ! Just a joke. 

Mrs. B. I can tell by Dr. Home's tone that it isn't 
a joking matter. George, speak the truth. 

Mx. B. Oh, very well. It's like this. We must 
have Claypool's room, and so — I did it for the best— I 
thought it a good idea to introduce a nurse for Marjorie. 



38 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

{Takes Mrs. Birch's arm.) Don't be angry f (Walks her 
down l.) 

Mrs. B. George! What a wicked plot ! (Wrenches 
herself free.) 

Mr. B. Don't be a silly. You know we want his 
room. 

Mrs. B. What vile inhospitality ! I should never 
have thought it of you. And Dr. Home, 'foo ! 

Dr. H. (goes to her). My dear madame 

Mrs. B, I don't want to hear a woid. (Horne gees 
up stage.) It's unspeakable. The poor boy has no 
proper home 

Mr. B. Like the cuckoo. But he generally finds, 
inexpensive lodgings with other people. 

Mrs. B. (to Dr. Horne). Well, not a word of this 
must get to his ears. (Goes towards house.) He would 
be hurt beyond measure. Oh, George, think ! How 
would you like it ? And he has been so nice. Think, 
what company he has been ^ 

Mr. B. (desperately). Not that again- — not that 
again ! (Up stage, l.) 

Mrs. B. (goes to him). He has been company for you. 
And he's helped me shell Marjorie and played with the 
peas — oh ! what am I saying ? 

Mr. B. (soothingly). We follow your drift. 

Mrs. B. (tearfully; coming to r.). You'd have been 
very dull without him, and so should I. 

Mr. B. And what about Aunt Clara ? 

Mrs. B. (coming back to c.) She can ccme later. You 
know you hate having her here. 

Mr. B. Yes, but I look ahead. I don't believe in 
offending childless relatives. 

Mrs. B. How sordid ! And we've given them all 
very good excuses, so far ! 

Mr. B. (sarcastically). Ha ! ha ! Just like a woman ! 
Dear Gay ! 

Mrs. B. Whenever a woman says something that 
women <>ay, but men are afraid to put into words, men 
say, " Just like a woman " ! In matters of every-day 
life men are all cowards. (Goes up to seat.) They have 
no pluck. 

Dr. H. And women no principle ! 

Mrs. B. (sits on seat). How dare you ! — Oh, I beg 
your pardon, Dr. Horne, I thought I was talking to my 
husband. 

Mr. B. (up to l. of her). Look here, Gay — about thes^ 
relatives. I've given them dates. 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 39 

Mrs. B. (sinks back in seat). Let me know the worst, 
What dates ? 

Mr. B. I've fixed up Uncle Ralph for to-morrow, 
Aunt Clara for next week, and your mother for the week 
after. You see, I was reckoning the Claypool scheme 
would work. 

Mrs. B. " The Claypool scheme." What a phrase ! 
Oh, poor boy — poor boy ! 

Mr. B. (standing to l. of her). Call him a very poor 
boy, and you've got it. 

Mrs. B. (furiously). Now you're jeering at his 
poverty. (As she rises, sees Horne smiling.) And 
Dr. Horne is backing you up — I saw him smiling. Go 
on — go on. Hound him out of Bishop's Dale ! 
Mr. B. Are we an hotel ? 

Mrs. B. Don't talk to me, sir. I'm tired of you. 
I'll leave you to get out of the difficulty as best you 
can. Dr. Horne had better say his diagnosis was in- 
correct, and that there is nothing really the matter with 
Marjorie. Then his sister can go at once. 

Mr. B. But that doesn't solve the Claypool question. 
Mrs. B. I can't help it. Until Mr. Claypool volun- 
teers to go, it would be the grossest inhospitality to give 
him the slightest hint that we wanted him to. 

Mr. B. And meanwhile Aunt Clara and Uncle Ralph, 
and your mother must wait ? 
Mrs. B. Yes. 

Mr. B. And alter their wills ? 

Mrs. B. (defiantly). Yes, if they like to be so mean \ 
(Mr. Birch looks at Dr. Horne in despair.) 

Mr. B. My dear girl 

Mrs. B. [comes down l,, crosses him). Don't " dear 
girl " me ! I tell you I am not going to deliberately 
turn that poor boy out to make room for Aunt Clara, 
with her pills and potions and old maidisms, and Uncle 
Ralph with his gout and bad temper and everlasting 
anecdotes — (excitedly) and I think it's a vile, wicked plot. 
I am ashamed of you both. Yes, Dr. Horne, I am 
ashamed of you. You ought to have known better. 

Dr. H. (shortly). I acted with- the best intentions, 
Mrs. Birch. I wished to serve you. 

Mrs. B. Serve me / (Foot on verandah step.) The 
whole scheme is infamous and unpardonable. But never 

mind — I've asked him to spend Christmas with us 

Mr. B. What ? 

Mrs. B. (in tearful triumph). At Sloane Street — at 
our flat. 



40 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Mr. B. {crosses to r. of her). You've asked him to come 
and be company for me again 

Mrs. B. Yes, and to play with Marjorie, and help 

stone the raisins (sobs), and stir the pudding, and 

sing carols (sobs) , and go shopping, and see the Old Year 

out and the New Year in — yes„ I've asked him, so there ? 

Exit dramatically into house. 

Mr. B. (wipes brow as he sinks on to steps). Home, I 
can't stand this. You must make me up a tonic. This 
is beyond bearing. 

Dr. H. (patting him on back). Cheer up — cheer up. 
It isn't as bad as all that. But what about Lydia ? 

Mr. B. (rising). Well, I suppose Miss Neale had 
better leave to-morrow. I won't tell Claypool she's- 
going, or he'll prepare to pop back into his room. I'll 
let him find it out for himself. (Despondently .) Ah ? 
you don't know what a month I've had. I'm sorry to» 
have got you into all this, doctor. You're a good chap,. 
I'm obliged to you — and that's all I can say. (Going 
up stage.) T>cm."t forget my tonic. 

Dr. H. Ill send you round something — never fear.. 
{Up stage.) Buck up, old man. 

Exit above house, l. 

Mr. B. Asked him for Christmas. Asked him to be 
company for me again ! Asked him to smoke my cigars 
and drink my '74 port. (Laughs wildly.) Company for 
George ! Company for George ! Company for George I 

Exit by path r. below tent. 
Enter Claypool, by verandah, with box of matches in- 
upright silver match-box case. 

Clay. A great mistake to be without matches. 
(Inspects tent.) Awkward if one couldn't have a smoke 
in the night. (Sits down on chair in door of tent.) Well, 
I'd better do some reading. (Picks large book off pile.) 
Who — who would take me for a divinity student ! Cer- 
tainly not my bookie ! (Looks at title of book.) Paley's 
Evidences. (Turning over leaves.) Paley, my dear boy, 
no doubt you meant well, but you took a long time get- 
ting out what you had to say. (Lights cigarette.) A leng 
time. You put up a monument of learning, old man, 
and I'm the Johnnie that's got to scale it. (Goes into 
tent.) 

Enter Lydia, by verandah. She is dressed in a nurse's 
indoor costume — white starched cap, blue -print dress, 
i wtyite cuffs, and white apnn. She carries a bcch.^ 



COMPACT FOR GEORGE. 41 

Lydia {pausing on verandah). I will not stay in that 
stuffy room any longer. (Crosses to tent.) Oh, what a 
jolly little tent ! (Peeps round corner of tent and sees 
Claypool, who comes out.) Oh, I beg your pardon ! 

Clay. Don't mention it. This is a welcome surprise. 

Lydia (walking to garden seat). I have come out to 
read my book (coldly.) 

As Claypool follows her she stops. 

Would you — mind 

Clay, (awkwardly ; stopping). No — er — certainly- 



Lydia (seating herself l. of seat). Going back to youar 
tent? 

Clay. Certainly — er — with pleasure. (Sits down in 
door of tent and takes up book.) 

Both read in silence. Claypool looks up, then down at 
book. She looks up and then at book. Then after a 
few moments both look up at same time. 

Look here ! (Throwing down book.) This is rot ! 
Lydia (reading). Is it ? Mine isn't ! 
Clay, (goes to her ; is r. of her). I don't mean that. 

I mean this way of going on. 

Lydia goes on reading. 

Do you hear — darling ? 

Lydia takes no notice. 

You shall hear ! (sits down by her side.) 

Lydia quietly walks across to the chair he has left, sits 
down and goes on reading. Claypool stares blankly 
at her, then goes across, sits down on the grass by her 
side, and gazes up beseechingly at her. As she takes no 
notice of him, he seizes her hand and kisses it. She 
snatches her hand away,' and gives him a sharp box- on 
the ear. With an exclamation, he darts back to the 
garden seat, nursing his ear. Lydia reads on for a few 
moments, then, after a sufficient pause, closes book &nd' 
looks steadily at him. 

Lydia. Now that I have taught you manners, I shall 
be glad to hear what you have to say. 

Clay, (humbly). I don't think that I have anything 
to say — that you will like to hear. (Slowly.) I fell in 
love with you at Cambridge, and as I'm rather a cad 
that's my way of showing it. 

Lydia (walking to seat and sitting down by him). I 
am sorry — but you shouldn't have done it. Did it hurt 
much ? 



42 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Clay. Yes, it hurt a good deal. 

Lydia (gently). Well, I'm sorry — ver'y sorry. (Put- 
ting out her hand.) Now, shall we make it up ? 

Clay, (shaking hands with her — rather brokenly). You 
are an awfully nice girl. (Hurriedly.) I say, come and 
look at my tent. It's awfully snug. 

They cross to tent. 

Everything as nice as mother makes it ! (Takes, ty 
up from table.) Observe the student's lamp. 

Lydia. Yes, very nice. (A pause.) And how long 
are you going to stay in it ? 

Clay, (looking awkward). How long ? Oh, a few 
days — a week — perhaps. It all depends ! 

Lydia. Oh, I see. It all depends. (Sits down on 
garden seat.) On what ? 

Clay, (seating himself to r. of her on seat). You. 

Lydia. Me ! 

Clay, (earnestly). Of course. Haven't I told you 
I've been hanging about down here just to meet you ! 
There was no other place where I should be likely to 
meet you. Look here, please be as brutal as you like. 
Tell me to go, and I'll go. 

Lydia (with a smile) . But I don't want tp spoil your 
holiday. We will each go our own way. 

Clay, (closer to her). Oh, but I want to go yours. 

Lydia. Please don't talk nonsense. I know exactly 
what kind of man you are. You are selfish to the core, 
(he rises, goes r.) but you have a way of making people 
like you. (He turns.) On your holidays you must be 
amused, and I am just now your particular form of 
amusement. 

Clay, (nursing his ear). Though so far the amusement 
has been all on your side. 

Lydia. Listen ! (He si's by her.) We will suppose, 
just for the sake of argument, that you are in earnest 
about me. 

Clay, (takes her hand). I swear 

Lydia (pulls her hand away). Let me go on. I must 
tell you exactly what I am like. I ccme of a large 
family, composed entirely of girls, except for one half- 
brother, Dr. Home. The girls had to turn out and do 
things. I'm the youngest. Three of my sisters have 
managed to find husbands, but not one of them has 
succeeded in marrying what you call " well." There 
always seems to be not quite enough money. So that 
I'm determined that, when I do marry, I will marry a 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 43 

man with plenty of money. . . . That's what I am, 
and you must admit that it doesn't sound very nice. 

Clay. That's what you say you are. 

Lydia. T-Her- ! That's how men go on. Girls tell 
them frankly* \wiat they are like and the men absolutely 
refuse to believe them. (Crosses him to r.) And then 
the men marry them, and find out that what the girls 
said was perfectly true. Now, I have told you exactly 
\\ hat /am like . I am going to take warning by my sisters' 
sad example, and not follow it. 

Clay, {rises ; crosses to l. of her). But although there 
is a shortage of money, people can be happy. Money is 
the root of all evil — — 

Lydia. The want of it, say ! 

Clay, (away a little). Well, I suppose all this is a 
sort of hint to me, so I must be honest and tell you that 
I haven't a cent beyond my allowance of (hesitates) two 
hundred (hesitates: then boldly) eighteen hundred a year. 

Lydia. I call that a very good allowance. 

Clay. Enough to marry on ? 

Lydia. Quite. 

Clay, (taking her hands). Then, dear, will you marry 
me ? 

Lydia (tries to pull her hands away). Certainly not. 

Clay. Why not ? 

Lydia. I said I would not marry a man unless he 
had plenty of money. I did not say I would marry a 
man because he had plenty of money. 
Claypool lets go her hands, sighs and sits down in garden 

scat, turning face from her. 
And now I must go to Marjorie. She will be wondering 
where I am. (Goes to verandah ; on step glances back at 
him, and, unperceived by him, takes rose from her blouse 
and throws it to him It falls on or near him.) 
Exit by verandah 

Clay, (seeing rose — delighted). By Jove ! (Puts, it 
in coat as he walks down r.) The darling ! (Taking out 
coins). But, by Jingo ! Suppose she had accepted 
me ! 

Exit rapidly by path down r, 
Enter by path above house, Dunn, servant to Lord 

Michaelmas. His costume is a quaint mixture of 

coachman, chauffeur and footman, as he wears a chauf- 
feur's leather peaked cap, a coachman's bi.J coat, and 

footman's trousers. Also his hair is powdered- tie is 

carrying a small box with lid, 



44 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Dunn. Which is the way into this place ? Do I 
rap on the verandah or shout ? {Peers in through ver- 
andah.) Seems a very nicely-feathered little nest — a lot 
more comfortable than our old rookery. {Taps on 
verandah.) Anybody at 'ome ? {Louder.) Anybody 
in ? 

Enter Fanny, by verandah. 

Oh, 'ere you hare, miss ! I've been 'ollerin' for 'arf 
an hour. 

Fanny {coldly) . What is it, please ? 

Dunn. A dog. 

Fanny. A what ? {Coming down from verandah.) 

Dunn. A little dog. I'm afraid it's a very little one, 
but it's the best my master could do. 

Fanny {looking at his clothes). What's he master of — 
the workhouse ? 

Dunn {tearfully). There you go — there you go. 
Just like the village boys. Call me names, they do. 

Fanny. What do they call you ? 

Dunn. "Duds." 

Fanny. " Drudge " ? 

Dunn. " Duds." D-U-D-S— " Duds." It refers to 
me clothes. 

Fanny. Well, you do look rather saucy.. 

Dunn. Saucy ! I don't feel it. No man in this 
county feels less saucy than me. 

Fanny. After a time you'll tell me who you are, I 
expect, and why you've brought that dog. 

Dunn. There's a gentleman here of the name of Mr. 
William Claypool, I believe ? 

Fanny. Yes. 

Dunn. And he's got a dog ? 

Fanny. Had a dog. It's dead now. 

Dunn. Precisely. It's dead. My master, the Earl 
of Michaelmas 

Fanny. Go on ! 

Dunn. My master ran over this dog, and said he'd 
send another to take its place. 

Fanny. You're Lord Michaelmas's man, then ? 

Dunn {bitterly). Man ! I'm his 'ousehold. I'm 
his footman, his coachman, and his chauffeur. You 
see, 'e's 'ad to cut his 'ousehold down. Naturally, being 
all these things, I get a bit mixed up in the clothes, as 
I've togs for each job. {Touching cap.) Here you see 
the chauffeur. {Touching his chest.) Here the coach- 
man. {Pulling aside coat and showing trousers. She 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 45 

crosses R. of him.) Here the footman. (Tragically.) 
And they're all patched ! 

Fanny. Oh, I am sorry. . 

Dunn. Not so sorry as I am. 

Fanny. And now, what about the dog ? 

Dunn. 'Ere it is — little dog for Mr. William Clay- 
pool, with the Earl of Michaelmas's compliments. 
{Opens lid, towards audience. They both peer into box.. 
N.B. There is no dog in the box in this act.) 

Fanny. Pretty dear ! 

Dunn (gazing at Fanny). Pretty dear ! 

Fanny (sharply). Eh ? 

Dunn. Only an echo. Very echoing place, this. 
(Confidentially.) I'd like to care-take this place in the 
winter. 

Fanny. Would you ? 

Dunn. Yes, and I'd like to care-take a nice young 
woman with it. 

Fanny (goes away from him to r.) Oh, would you ! 

Dunn (goes to her). Yes, it's time I was pensioned 
by the Michaelmas family. My people have been pen- 
sioned by them for three hundred years, and not one of 
them's done the work I 'ave. This cottage is on the 
Michaelmas estate — I'd like to care-take it. 

Fanny. I'll mention it to the master. 

Dunn. Thank you. I might drop over on Sunday 
evening to hear what he says. 

Fanny. I daresay he'll be in then. 

Dunn. Oh, I was thinking he'd be out. Well, I'll 
drop over. 

Fanny. Will you motor ? 

Dunn. No, I'll walk— I'll get here then. Well, I'll 
be going now. I'll put the dog down here. (Puts box 
down in verandah.) Tell Mr. Claypool, will you ? 

Fanny. You seem in a nice hurry. 
Austin enters, down r. Seeing them, he slips into ihe 
tent. 

Dunn. Well, you see, the earl is a very 'ot-blooded 
old gent, and gets a bit outside 'imself if he 'as to wait 
an hour or two for his lunch. 

Fanny. But are you his cook ? 

Dunn. Yes, I'm his chef as well as his chauffeur. 

Fanny. And you dig the garden and drive the horse 
as well ? 

Dunn. Aye, and valet my lord into the bargain. 
Sometimes I try my hand at paintin', and I 'ave been 
known to take a turn at the church organ. 



46 COMPANY FOR GEORGtf. 

Fanny. Blowing it ? 

Dunn. No, playing it. [Sits down on garden seat 
and plays organ in pantomime.) Chants, 'ims, and in- 
voluntaries. 

Fanny. Goodness me ! what a clever man you are ! 

Dunn. Aye, and not a word, not a 'int from my lord 
about a pension. It's sickenin' ! [Buries face in hands.) 

Fanny. Never mind ! There's always the Old Age 
one to look forward to. 

Dunn [springing up — dramatically). Don't — don't. 
'Ard words, ill usage, I can bear, but kindness gives me 
a puncture or a stone in the 'ooft 

Fanny [stifling a laugh) . I do feel for you. 

Dunn. Well, I'm off. I'll be over on Sunday evening 
and we can have a nice talk. 

Fanny. Yes, Sunday about seven. 

Dunn. Which is the proper way out ? 

Fanny [indicating exit down r.) There. 

Dunn. Does that lead by where you drew that glass 
of beer for me ? 

Fanny. No — that's this way. [Going towards exit 
by path l). 

Dunn [following her — fervently). Oh, ma cherie ! 

Exeunt, Dunn with arm round Fanny's waist. 
Enter from tent, Austin. 

Austin. Oho ! " Ma cherry " ! [Lies down and 
rolls about, convulsed with laughter.) 

Enter by path down r., Septimus Spring. 

Spring. Good gracious ! Good gracious me ! What's 
the "matter! [Prods Austin with stick.) Hey, boy! 
Get up, I say ! 

Austin gets up. 
(Is R of Austin.) What extraordinary behaviour! 
Are Mr. and Mrs. Birch about ? 

Austin (l. of him). I'll tell 'em you're here, sin 

Exit by verandah. 
Spring. Most peculiar ! Almost a subject for. a 
letter. " How Yokels While Away the Time " ! Most 
peculiar ! Laughing over some joke he heard last year, 
I presume. [Makes note in book.) 

Enter Mr. and Mrs. Birch from verandah. 

Ah ! how do you do ? I thought I'd look in for a moment. 
I have received some letters which have puzzled me 
considerably. Curiously enough, I heard by this morn- 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 47 

ing's post from your sister, Miss Glengarry, from Sir 
Ralph Glengarry, and from your mother, Mrs. Birch. 
May we sit ? 

Mrs. Birch indicates that he" Can sit on chair above 
'tent R ; he turns to get it ; they look at one another in 
despair and sit on seat side by side. 

Yes, they all favoured me with their confidence. 
I was most surprised — most. 

Mr. and Mrs. Birch on seat, R.and l., Spring in chair. 

Mrs. B. I suppose they wrote to tell you that we 
had been obliged to put them off ? 

Spring. Precisely — precisely ! That was the sub- 
ject of each letter. But what astonished me were the 
reasons— the utterly incomprehensible reasons which 
you apparently gave thtm for being unable to receive 
them. 

Mr. B. But, my good sir, I fail to understand you. 
I told Mrs. Birch's aunt Clara that there was an epidemic 
of throats in the village, it is true 

Spring. Throats ! 

Mrs. B. (turns to him). Throats, George ! 

Mr. B. (irritably). Didn't I say throats ? 

Mrs. B. But why ? Who told you ? 

Mr. B. Claypool. 

Spring. Who ? What's that ? 

Mr. B. Mr. Claypool assured me there was an 
epidemic of throats in the village, so I told Aunt Clara 
so. 

Spring. What an imaginative young man ! Well, 
I can tell you he spoke in error. Never was Bishop's 
Dale healthier. Only three deaths so far this year; and 
two of them caused by motor cars. 

Mr. B. Well, I wonder where Claypool got his*infor- 
mation ! I'll wire to Aunt Clara and tell her she? can 
come at once. 

Spring (leaning forward). But that doesn't account 
for the other two telegrams. How came those two to be 
sent ? 

Mr. B. I've no idea. I wrote our telegrams giving 
my relatives dates, and asked Claypool to take them 
to the post office. 

Spring. Ah ! the thing is obvious. These young 
Cambridge gentlemen will have their fun. (Impressively. ) 
Hs altered tLvjse telegrams. 

Mr. B. Very possibly. 

Mrs. B. George ! 



48 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Spring. There hasn't been a drop of rain for six 
weeks, and yet you tell Sir Ralph Glengarry that the 
village is flooded. 

Mr. B. (rises). Upon my word 

Spring. And imagine Mrs. Glengarry's feelings- 
imagine her alarm, her apprehension — when she is 
curtly informed that "Wee Neste " has been burnt to 
the ground ! (Mrs. Birch rises, crosses down r.) 

Mr. B. I — I (Frantic.) 

Spring. No doubt the poor lady had one of her heart 
attacks. She will certainly have insomnia for nights 

Mr. B. (comes back to them). Say no more. I'll kick 
him out to-day. 

Spring (turns to Mrs. Birch). You will, of course, 
Mrs. Birch, write to all of them to-day and explain 
matters. I certainly shall, as they have been so good 
as to favour me with their confidence. 

Mr. B. (testily). But, my good sir, it is entirely our 
business. 

Spring (crosses to him). Pardon me. Mine as well, 
I think. (Taps him on shoulder.) Mine as well. As for 
your young friend, he deserves a good thrashing. 

Mr. B. (fiercely). And he shall have it. (Strides 
towards verandah ; crossing Mrs. Birch.) 

Mrs. B. George ! 

Mr. B. Insolent cub ! 

Mrs. B. How dare you call our guest names ? . . . 
Besides, fancy you trying to thrash Mr. Claypool. 

Mr. B. (wildly). This is a nighimare. I am reduced 
to a cypher in my own house. I have to fetch and carry 
for a perfect stranger. (Goes down l. ; she follows him ; 
and back again.) It's monstrous — ridiculous — unspeak- 
able ! 

Spring. Before you take any action, there is still 
another matter to be put before you. (To Mrs. Birch.) 
Your paragon, my dear lady, I have to tell you, is nothing 
less than a rogue — a footpad — a highwayman. 

Mrs. B. Sir — consider what you are saying. 
Spring. It is true. (Drawing a paper from his pocket.) 
You have a garden boy called Brown — Austin Brown ? 

Birch nods. 
I have here a signed statement by him to the effect 
that Mr. Claypool put out a stuffed dog in the road, that 
this dog was run over by my brother, Colonel Spring, 
and tnat Claypool thereupon demanded and obtained 
the sum of five pounds as compensation for the supposed 
killing of the dog by his motor-car. 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. w 49 

Mr. B. {gasping). Bismarck ! {Backs from them.) 

Spring {waving paper). I must see Mr. Claypool, 
and if he cannot refute the charge the matter will be 
put into the hands of the police. {To Mrs. Birch.) 
I can hardly congratulate you on the character of your 
guest, madame. He has been shown up to-day in a 
light that can only be called lurid — and heaven alone 
knows of what other crimes he may be guilty. (Mrs. 
Birch goes down stage smiling ; he takes a step to her.) 
There was a burglary (Birch comes down r. of Spring) 
at, Admiral Pollard's the other night 

Mr. B. My good fellow, you don't think 

Spring {turns to Birch). And then that poaching 
affair at Three ways 

Mrs. B. {goes up to him— back to audience — icily). 
Don't you think it would be a good idea to make 
these remarks to Mr. Claypool himself ? {Goes up 
stage,) 

Spring {firmly — striking lawn with umbrella). Fetch 
the fellow ! 

Mr. B. {moves below Spring and Mrs. Birch, gets to 
below steps). Right you are ! We'll have it out with 
him.. (Spring goes down stage r., rubbing his hands with 
glee.) 

Enter Fanny from verandah. 

Fanny. Please, sir, Miss Coobit. 

Mr. B. Miss Coobit ! {To Mrs. Birch.) Who on 
earth's this, Gay ? 

Mrs. B. A very old friend of my mother's. 

Mr. B. {desperately). Has she come to stay ? 

Mrs. B. I don't know. (Birch crosses between Mrs. 
Birch and Spring to tent.) Ask her to come through, 
Fanny. 

Exit Fanny. 

Spring {fussing up to Mrs. Birch). Pardon me, but is 
your friend Miss Mary P. Coobit, the lady explorer ? 

Mrs. B. {worried). Yes, yes. {Crosses him to r.) 
She went across a camel on Arabia, or something — oh ! 
what am I saying-; {Hands to head.) 

Spring {crossing to her). It will be a privilege to meet 
her. I had better postpone my little conversation 
with Mr. Claypool. . 

Mrs. B. {turns to him). Yes, I should say it would 
be as well to do that. 
Enter, by verandah, Miss Coobit. She is a smart, 

strongly -built woman of forty odd, dressed in riding 

c 



50 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

costume. Carries whip and square brown bag, and talks 
f briskly in an American accent.) 

Miss Coobit {rushing up to Mrs. Birch). Ah, my 
dear Gay, this is indeed a pleasure. 

They kiss twice. 

I am staying at Easthampton, and knowing you were 
here I said to myself, " I will put a few little necessaries 
into a bag, and ride right over and see my dear Gay ! " 
It's only thirty miles away. My mare Duchess made a 
mouthful of it. {Gesticulates with whip ; hits Spring.) 
Mrs. B. Thirty miles since breakfast! You are 
wonderful. Allow me — my husband — Miss Coobit. 
Mr. Septimus Spring — Miss Coobit. 

Mr. Birch and Spring bow. Birch waits a little, 
then goes up stage. 

Spring {effusively). This is indeed an unique pleasure, 
Miss Coobit. (Mrs. Birch turns, calls Fanny, who is 
passing, and talks to her.) To meet in this retired spot 
a lady of world-wide celebrity — one who has risked her 
life a thousand times in the pursuit of geographical know- 
ledge — one who has been, so to speak, frozen in Lapland 
and' thawed in the Persian Gulf 

Miss C. {cheerily, gesticulating with whip). Never had 
a chill or a blister in my life, thank you, sir. I've got a 
skin no moskeeter could ever tackle without breaking 
his teeth, and the constitution of a ship's biscuit. {Acci- 
dentally hits Spring with whip.) 

Spring {dodging whip). Wonderful; indeed! You 
go well provided, I presume, with an assortment of 
clothes and wraps suitable for facing the varying degrees 
of temperature ? Most interesting. A lady and her 
trunks in the desert. I see your string of camels 

Miss C. Don't — you hurt me ! {Hits him.) Trunks ! 
I see myself. No, sir. All. the impedimenta / burden 
myself with is this bag. {Opens bag.) I call it my 
M.I. P. bag — multum in parvo. Toilet, change of linen, 
spirit lamp, saucepan and kettle, eighteen different kinds 
of food tabloid, tea, condensed milk, sugar, map of 
the heavens, compass, sixpenny novels, brandy flask, 
revolver and knife ! M.I.P. Invaluable to explorers. 
I'm going to patent it. [Hits Spring, who dodges, 
away. Miss Coobit crosses below Spring to r. of him, 
looking round.) Now, Gay, dear girl, just, show me the 
little attic where I am going to hide my head for a night 
or two, and then I'll take a walk round this dear little 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 61 

English village of yours — where I'd like to end my days 
(to Spring) if I'm not nibbled up by wolves in Siberia 
this winter. 

Spring. I shall be happy to act as your guide, 
dear madame. We have here the house and tomb of 
the poet Fitzsparrowe 

Mrs. B. (comes down to l. of Spring. Birch remains 
up stage). Yes, come along, dear Miss Coobit ; and 
you must want something to eat — — 

Miss C. No, I'll wait till lunch. (Crosses Mrs. 
Birch to below steps.) And then 1*11 disappoint ycu ! 
I only eat to keep alive. 

Spring (gleefully). Ah, a kindred spirit! Myself, 
my simple meals consist of milk warm from the cow, 
a plate of grapenuts 

Miss C. Never overwork the machinery is the secret 
of a long life, eh, Mr. Spring ? 

Mrs. B. (taking Miss Coobit's arm). Come along, 
m y dear. Please don't suggest anything that will pro- 
lo ng his ! 

Exeunt by verandah. 

Birch comes down stage in despair to l. of Spring. 

Spring. Upon my word, Birch, this promises to be 
a rare experience — an experience to be treasured. This 
is one of the most wonderful women alive — an Amazon 
of modern times — a very encyclopaedia on the peoples of 
the world 

Mr. B. But where's she to sleep ? 

Spring (nonplussed for the moment). Sleep ? Oh, 
that'll present no difficulties to a woman who has made 
herself comfortable in a snowdrift. 

Mr. B. But we haven't got a snowdrift. 

Spring. At a pinch, I don't suppose she would mind 
sleeping on the lawn. 

Mr B. I hardly think we can ask her to do that. 
But stay ! (Eagerly.) How about the tent ? 

Spring. But your young Cambridge friend requires 
it 

Mr. B. Quite so ! Exactly ! Once get him out of 
the tent, and he's bound to go ! Eureka ! The very 
thing ! (Snaps fingers as he goes down stage l.) 

Spring (down to him). But before he goes, my dear 
Birch, I have to settle my own little matter with him. 
It cannot be overlooked, you will admit. 

Mr. B. No, we must go into that. (Goes down with 



&2 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

him to r.) Come in early to-morrow and well have 
everything out with him. 

Spring (grimly). I'll come early — never fear. He 
shan't escape me- — he shan.'t escape me f 

Exit by path down r. 

Enter by path l. above house, Dr. Horne, carrying a 
medicine bottle wrapped up in paper. 

Dr. H. [comes down). I was passing this way, so I 
thought I'd bring you your tonic. 

Mr. B. Thanks, aAvfully, but I shan't want it now, 
old man. I've found another solution to the difficulty. 
A lady explorer friend of the wife's has just arrived on 
a short visit, and as there's no room in the house for 
her, I'm going to offer her the tent. 

Enter Claypool, up r. 

Ah ! here's the very man. {To Horne.) Just a minute. 

Dr. Hdrne: goes up stage, looks off. Mr. Birch advances 
to Claypool, takes him by the arm, and leads him down. 

Willie, old man, I'm in a fix. A lady explorer, a friend 
of my wife's, has arrived, and as there isn't an inch of 
room in the house, I want to offer her your tent. 

Clay. Do so by all means. I'll move to the summer- 
house. 

Mr. B. (aghast — backs). The summer-house ! (Goes 
to him.) My good man, it's uninhabitable — spiders, 
beetles, cockroaches 

Clay. Don't you worry — a little Keatings will put 
that right. I can make myself very cosy there. Just a 
mattress and a blanket or two, and I shall be as snug as 
a dormouse. {Pulling Birch towards tent.) Come on ! 
Let's start moving at once. (Goes into tent.) Shouting 
from tent.) Tell Fanny to get to work on it with her 
vacuum cleaner ! 

Enter Mrs. Birch from verandah. 

Mrs. B. George, dear, I want you. (Motions to 
him.) 

Mr. Birch goes to her. 

George, where can we put her ? 

Mr. B. That's soon settled. In Claypooi's tent. 

Mrs. B. In the tent ! A woman ! But 

Mr. B. Spring says she's slept in snowdrifts. A tent 
will te like the Savoy after that ! 

Mrs. B. But where will Mr. Claypool go ? 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 53 

Mr. B. [sighing). He says he'll sleep in the summer- 
house. 

Mrs. B. That is just like his noble, unselfish nature. 
Oh, this detestable cottage ! [Crosses on to steps.) I 
was never so worried in my life. • Next year I'll go to an 
hotel where there's a lift, and porters, and heaps and 
heaps of spare rooms ! 

Exit by verandah. 

Mr. B. [calling).. Fanny ! Austin ! Come and lend 
a hand here ! 

Dr. H. [advancing). Can / be of any use ? 

Clay, [appearing ai door of tent with bath). I'll trouble 
y ou to take the bath, doctor. [Hands bath to Dr. Horne, 
w ho goes out with it, up r.) Here, Birch, lay hold of these 
t ogs. [Hands him clothes ; exit Birch up r.) 

Enter Mrs.. Birch and Miss Coorit from verandah. 

Miss C. Very good of the young man, I must say ! 
Mrs. B. Mr. Claypooi — Miss Coobit! 

They bow. Mrs. Birch goes into tent. 

Miss C. I'm so sorry I shall have to disturb you. 
Clay. Dear lady, not a word. 

Walks off up r. with pair of boots. 

Enter up r., Mr. Birch and Dr. Horne. The former 
in shirt sleeves. Business. Getting things out of tent. 

[Enter Fanny and Austin from verandah.) 

Mrs. B. [comes out of tent carrying something.) Here, 
you two, take the rest of Mr. Claypool's things down to 
the summer house. 

Miss Coobit goes to Mrs. Birch. Exeunt up r. 
Fanny and Austin with chest of. drawers, hooks on 
top. Books fall on Austin. Austin goes off with 
books- • r 

Mr. B. [seating himself on garden seat). Where's that 

tonic ? 

Dr. Horne strips off paper and draws cork. Enter 
Clayp^ol, up r. Goes into tent. 

Thanks. You think this [smells) will help me through, 

eh ? [Drinks.^ Well, it's nasty enough ! I'll go and 

get a glass. 

Clay, [looking out). By the way, Fanny, you might 

get me a jam-pot full of water, will you ? 



6* COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Fanny. Yes, sir. {Exit by verandah.) 
Dr. H. {as they rise). It'll pull you together and help 
you to right through. 

Mr. Birch groans. 

You'll feel like a new man to-morrow. {Goes down l.) 
Clay, {within tent — throwing out boots, one of which 

almost hits Mr. Birch.) Work away, old man ! 
Mr. B. {goes down lawn). Confound his impudence I 
Clay, {within tent — throwing boots out). "Many 

hands make light labour." (Birch and Horne dodge 

boots.) Work away, Birch ;. there's nothing like work ! 

Enter Fanny from verandah with jam-pot and box. 

Fanny. The jam-pot, sir. {Hands Claypool jam - 
fot.) And, Mr. Claypool, sir, there's a little dog here f o r 
you, sir — sent by Lord Michaelmas. It's in this bcx .. 

Clay. Take it down to the summer-house, Fanny. 
(Re-enters tent.) 

Mr. B. {on steps of verandah — despairingly, to Dr. 
Horne). And how — how, I ask you, are we to get him 
out of the summer-house! 

Clay, {emerging from tent with rose in jam-pot — follow- 
ing Fanny to exit up r.) And I really think that's aU ! 



Curtain. 



ACT III. 

'Scene. — Practically the same as in Act II, with altera- 
tions. On r. of stage, where tent was, is a square, 
"rustic" summer-house, with door. Show front of 
summer-house only. The garden is wet and dilapidated, 
as it would be after a storm. In place of verandah is a 
cloth showing blackened shell of cottage, which has been 
burnt down. Debris on stage, at foot of cloth. Back 
cloth : low wall ; distant view of river in flood. Garden 
seat to l. of stage, near ruins. R. below summer- 
house, is garden chair. Exits above and below house, 
l., and above and b'elow summer-house, r. 

Mr. and Mrs. Birch are discovered, the latter lying curled 
up on garden-seat. Mr. Birch is dressed in a gaily- 
flowered dressing-gown, pyjamas and bedroom slippers ; 
his face is grimy with smoke. Mrs. Birch in 
dressing-gown over night-dress. Hair in curling-pins. 
Wears bedroom slipper and high-heeled dancing shoe, 
so that she limps when she walks. 

Time. — About breakfast time. No sun till middle of 
Act (p. 64). 

Mr. B. [walks down, crossesMRS, Birch to l.). I can't 
do a thing more. I'm done up. I'd give a sovereign 
for a cup of coffee. 

Mrs. B. And I'd give two for a comfortable bedroom, 
a, fire and a French maid. (Sneezes.) 

Mr. B. Most providential the fire didn't break out 
till it was light. It did allow us to see what we were 
about. (Sneezes ; goes up l. of seat.) 

Mrs. B. Can't you make a bonfire or something ? 
I'm perished with cold. 

Mr. B. Why, everything's soaking. We must wait 
till the sun comes out. (Looks towards summer-house.) 
I've a good mind to wake Claypool up. Whatever 
happens to anybody else, he's always snug enough. 
(Crosses over to r. of Mrs. Birch, who sits up and stops 
him.) 

Mrs. B. (holds his arm). You shall not disturb him, 
George ! You know he has been sleeping so badly 
lately that Dr. Home had to give him a sleeping draught. 

Mr. B. All right, all right ! (Down r. ; dances.) 
Mast get warm. (Hums.) Yip-i-addy-i-ay ! 

A crash is heard off. 



56 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Mrs. B. Oh, there's another wall gone ! Poor 

" Wee Neste " ! 

Enter Fanny by path up l. She is dressed in a mackin- 
tosh, buttoned close up under chin ; hair down her back 
in a plait. 
Fanny (comfortingly to Mrs. Birch). Miss Mar- 

jorie's quite all right, ma'am, snugged away warm in 

bed at Mrs. Halliday's. But there's a dreadful flood in 

the village 

Mr. B. Is it still rising ? 

Fanny. Yes, sir. It's swept away the bridge, and 

it's got into the church, and it's all over the railway line. 

People are going about in boats, sir. 

Mr. Birch goes up stage r. of seat. 

Mrs. B. Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! how dreadful r It's 
a pity the rain didn't come on a little sooner, (Birch 
turns ; comes down) then poor " Wee Neste " would 
have been saved. 
Enter Austin by path, down r. He is wearing an over - 

coat of Mr. Birch's which is much 'too big for him . 

His face is dirty with smoke and mud. Carries baske t 

over arm. 

Mr. B. Well, Austin, have you been down to th e 
paddock ? 

Austin. Yezzur. 

Mr. B. How are the chickens ? 

Austin. All drownded, zur. 

Mrs. B. (wringing her hands). Oh dear ! Oh dear ! 

Mr. B. (goes to her — irritably). I do wish you would 
try and cheer up, Gay. (Crosses her to l.) It's bad 
enough to be burnt out of one's home without your 
making these constant laments. 

Fanny and Austin go up r. above summer-house. 
Talk and laugh. 

Mrs. B. (rising viciously). My mother said before I 
married you that you were a brute ! She warned me 
against you ! Fancy turning on a woman like this ! 

Mr. B. Well, upon my soul, my love, surely things are 
bad enough as they are without your making them 
worse ! As for your mother, I'm only too glad she's not 
here. Thanks to your nice gentleman friend, however, 
she is still at a distance, or no doubt she would be giving 
me a piece of her mind about my character. I daresay 
she would accuse me of setting the house on fire in order 
to burn her in her bed ! (Goes up l.) 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 57 

Another crash off. 

Mrs. B. Oh, you are cruel — cruel— cruel! (To 
Austin, suddenly.) What are you laughing at ? (To 
Fanny.) And you ? Can you do nothing but stand 
and giggle when we are in this plight ? 

Austin. I wasn't laughin', mum. 

Mrs. B. Then don't stand looking as if you was. 
(Austin goes up stage. To Fanny.) Fanny, take a 
month's notice. 

Fanny (tossing her head ; coming down r.) I was 
just about to give you a month, ma'am. 

Mrs. B. Why, pray ? 

Fanny (very virtuously, with her nose in the air). 
Such goings on I never did see ! (Goes down r. a little.) 

Mrs. B. What do you mean ? 

Fanny. Oh, everybody in the village has been 
talking about it. 

Mrs. Birch sits on seat. 

Mr. B. (striding up to her). Explain yourself, girl ! 

Fanny (backs from Mr. Birch). No, sir, I have no 
grudge against you. You're the long-suffering one. 

Mrs. B. What ! 

Mr. B. What do you mean ? 

Fanny (not looking at them ; looks straight at audience). 
Oh ! everybody in the village pities you, sir. 

Mr. B. (pointing). Go indoors, girl ! 

Fanny. There isn't any indoors to go into ! 
Austin bursts into a laugh, but recovers himself quickly. 

Mr. B. (glaring at him). Perhaps you will be good 
enough to tell me what is amusing you, boy ? 

Austin. There ain't nothin' amusin' me, zur. 

Mr. B. Then why did you laugh ? 

Austin. That was a touch of the 'ooping corf, zur. 

Mr. B. Well, take something for it. (Austin goes 
off up r. with basket on arm. To Fanny.) Now, girl, 
explain yourself. 

Fanny (sulkily). The village is talking about Mr. 
Claypool. 

Mr. B. (below seat; back to audience). That fellow 
again ! 

Mrs. B. (rises). George, how dare you ! And 
before the servants, too ! Really ! (Goes down l.) 

Mr. B. (bothered ; to Fanny). What are they saying ? 

Fanny (goes to him a little). Well, sir, folks are 
talking about the missis buying him things. 

Mr. B. (passionately). Ah ! this is the last straw. 



58 COMPANY FOR GEORGE 

So it has come to this — a scandal ! (To Mrs. Birch.) 
Do you hear ? 

Mrs. B. (very coldly and calmly). Yes, I hear, and do 
you think I attach any importance to what this girl says ? 
lam indifferent to such idle and wicked gossip. (Crosses 
to R.) 

Claypool appears in doorway of summer-house. He 
is dressed as usual ; very spic and span. 

Clay. It's the greasy pole. (Comes between them.) 
They're jealous, my dear lady. They hear I am going 
in for that pig, and they can't bear the thought of it. 
(Exit Fanny up r.) But you seem to have been dis- 
turbed ! 

Mr. B. While you have been asleep there's been a 
storm. " Wee Neste " was struck by lightning ! (Point- 
ing.) And you see the result ! 

Clay, (back of seat). I'm awfully sorry ! Fancy my 
sleeping through it all ! Why didn't you call me ? 

Mr. B. Why, to tell you the truth, in the hubbub we 
forgot all about you. We got Marjorie out and went to 
a neighbour's house. It came down in sheets for a 
couple of hours, and when we ventured back and found 
you were all right, we let you sleep on. 

Clay, (stares at ruins). By Jove ! Fancy my sleep- 
ing all through it! It was that dose Home gave me. 
Mrs. Birch, may I offer you the use of the summer-house ? 
You will find a looking-glass in there, at any rate, and 
there's whisky and soda and phospherine. 

Mrs. B. Oh, thank you. (Going into summer-house.) 
A little phospherine and soda will be just the thing. 

Exit into summer-house. 

Clay, (up to door with her — as she goes in). Thanks 
to your tlioughtfulness, you'll find it equipped with all 
the comforts of home. (Enter Fanny at.d Austin i,p 
R. talking. To Mr. Birch.) Birch, whisky and cigar- 
ettes under the bed, and you can have a bath if you want 
another so soon. (To Fanny.) Suppose you go and 
see what you can do for your mistress, Fanny. 
Exit Fanny into summer-house. Austin goes to 

up L. 
(To Mr. Birch.) Where can we get some clothes ? 

Mr. B. Oh, I don't know. The whole place is 
flooded. Mrs. Ha! 1 ' - who' looking after Marjorie, 
■ 
Clay. Good! (Goes up to Austin.) Boy, , go and 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 59 

ask Mrs. Halliday to lend Mrs. Birch some things. If 
you have to swim back with them, hold them above 
your head. Get some for Fanny, too. (Austin looks 
sulky.) I'll give you a sovereign if you're quick. (Aus- 
tin doesn't move.) A sovereign if you're quick {going 
close up to him — threateningly), and a confounded good 
thrashing if you don't start at once. (Starts him with a 
kick.) 

Exit Austin l. 

As for you, my dear Birch, help yourself to my wardrobe. 

Mr. B. Right you are — I will when the missis has 
rigged herself out. 

Clay, (handing case). Meanwhile, have a cigarette. 
Mr. Birch takes cigarette. 

Now tell me all about the fire. (Sits down on seat.) 

Mr. B. (to l. of seat; profile to audience). Well, it 
was just getting light when Gay and I were awakened 
by a loud clap of thunder. There were several flashes 
of forked lightning, and then came a crash on the 
roof, followed by a smell of burning. I woke Fanny and 
told her to wake the others, and then I rushed to. Mar- 
jorie's room and carried the kid out with the bedclothes 
round her, and took her round to Mrs. Halliday's, Gay 
going with me. When I got back Fanny, Miss Coobit 
and Austin were chucking water on the flames, but they 
might as well have tried to put Vesuvius out. Poor 
" Wee Neste " had to go. The house burnt like tinder, 
.and just when it was too late down came the rain in 
regular sheets. You can imagine what it was like when 
I tell you it put the fire out in about half an hour. 

Clay. And what about the nurse, 'Miss Neale ? 

Mr. B. Eh ? The nurse ? 

Clay, [jumping up). The nurse, man ! Miss Neale! 
That girl 

Mr. B. Well, upon my word, I forgot all about her. 

Cl\y. (grasping him by the shoulders). What ! You 
forgot her ! (Hoarsely.) Think again — think again ! 
\ou can't have forgotten her. Think, man ! 

Mr. B. She must have escaped. I saw nothing of 
her. 

Clay, (wildly.) Lydia— Lydia (Rushes off down 

Mr. B. Hi ! Come back, come back ! The place 
will fall in on you ! Come back, man ; She's all right. 
. . . (Co . ag it! Hj called her 

lia." 



60 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Mrs. Birch entering front summer-house with hair down. 

Mrs. B. Stop him, George ! Miss Neale went home 
late last night. I asked her to. 

Mr. B. {angrily). That explains it. Why in thunder 
didn't you tell me ? 

Mrs. B. (pushing him). Run and tell the poor boy. 
Hs's frantic. 

Mr. B. Yes, and why should he be frantic ? (Runs 
off down l. after Claypool.) Hi ! Claypool — Clay- 
pool 

Mrs. B. These men ! Oh, these men ! Fancy 
George saying he'd forgotten her. (Calling to Fanny.) 
Come and finish my hair, Fanny. Do it anyhow. 
(Sits on seat.) 

Enter Fanny from summer-house with brush and comb. 
She attends to Mrs. Birch's hair. 

As if we should have left her in the house ! 

A crash is heard off. Heard off Mr. Birch calling 
" Claypool, where are yon ? " 

There ! A will's fallen down. (Screams.) George — ■ 
George ! (Struggles to get away from Fanny, who has 
■hold of her hair.) 

Fanny (whimpering). You don't think — 'ma'am — ■ 
that a wall's fallen on the poor gentleman ? (Wipes 
her eyes with hairbrush and absentmindsdly holds on to 
Mrs. Birch's hair.) 

Mrs. B. (fiercely). Let me go, girl ! 

Tears herself free and is just running off when enter up l. 
Dr. Horne and Lydia. Both fully dressed, Dr. 
Horne in riding clothes, and Lydia in ordinary 
walking costume.) 

Dr. Horne. Directly We heard what had happened 

we came round. Fortunately, the flood hasn't what 

is the matter, Mrs. Birch ? 

Lydia (running up to her). What is the matter, dear 
Mrs. Birch ? You look dreadful ! 

Mrs. B. My husband — told Mr. Claypool — he — he 
didn't know where you were 

Lydia. Where I was ! 

Mrs. B. Mr. Claypool thought you were left in the 
house, and has gone to see ... I didn't know you knew 
him. 

Dr. H. (goes to dow 'i L.) He must be careful. The 
place can't be safe. I'll go ard look after him. 
Fanny exits into summer-hous&. 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 61 

Mrs. B. George has gone . . . but didn't you hear 
that crash as you came in ? 

Lydia (startled). Yes — but that — couldn't be 

(Moves towards house.) 

Mrs. B. I don't know, I don't know ! I must see ! 

Limps rapidly off down l. 

Dr. H. Lydia, do you know this young man ? 

Lydia. You introduced us yourself. 

Dr. H. And you have apparently improved on the 
acquaintance, when you were supposed to be helping 
Birch to get rid of him. 

Lydia (goes r.). I saw him occasionally. 

Dr. H. (follows her — waving towards house),. With this 
result — he goes off his head when he thinks something 
may have happened to you. 

(Enter Claypool from down l. with Mr. Birch. Sees 
Lydia — start of relief — goes to her.) 

Mr. B. (talking). Another half minute and you'd have 
had the place on top of you. (Angrily.) Isn't it bad 

enough to be burnt out'of one's home (Sees Lydia.) 

Ah ! There is Miss Neale ! Now I hope you're satisfied. 

Enter from up l. Mrs. Birch ; Dr. Horne goes to her. 

Mrs. B. Oh, there he is ! What a fright you gave 
us, Mr. Claypool ! \ 

Clay, (to her). I'm awfully sorry. (To Lydia.) 
Would you care to see the ruins, Miss Neale ? 
Dr. Horne conducts Mrs. Birch to \summer-house . She 
goes in. 

Lydia (tremulously). Thank you. I — I am glad 
you didn't do anything silly. I should have been sorry 
if you had been hurt. 

Clay, (offering his arm). Oh, that's all right. Let 
me guide you through the puddles. We shall get the 
best view from the front, I fancy. 

Exeunt up l., arm-in-arm. 

Mr. B. (gloomily — to Dr. Horne). We've had such a 
time — such a time ! 

Enter down r. Septimus Spring. He is dressed in 
sea-boots and oil-skins and wears a sou' -jester. 

Spring. Good-morning ! This is a sad spectacle.. 
(To Dr. Horne.) Ah, Dr. Horne, good-morning. 
There'll be plenty of work for you after this flood,- 



62 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

doctor. Typhoid and all that sort of thing. It's an ill 
wind that blows nobody good — what ! You'll have 
your hands full ! The accumulations of years — years, 
sir — will be swept out of the drains by this flood, and 
Bishop's Dale will be decimated. Mark me, doctor — 
decimated. 

Dr. H. {stiffly). You evidently have no high opinion 
of my skill, sir. (Goes up stage.) 

Spring (to Mr. Birch). It is really most extraordin- 
ary that this flood and fire should have taken place, as 
it was only yesterday that I wrote to your relatives, my 
dear Birch, assuring them that the village had a per- 
fectly clean bill of health, was as dry as a bone, and had 
witnessed no conflagration. Evidently, I spoke too 
soon. 

Mr. B. Oh, you wrote to them, did you ? (Irrit- 
ably.) Upon my word, you are a most interfering fellow. 

Spring. I meant it for the best. And this reminds 
me. (Fumbles in his pockets.) A fellow in a boat asked 
me whether I was coming this way, and when I said I 
was he desired me to give you these telegrams. 

Hands telegrams to Birch, who sits on seat. 

No bad news, I hope. 

Mr. B. (reading telegram). " Glad no foundation for 
report. Be with you to-day. Clara." (Scratches his 
head.) What does this mean ? 

Spring (goes to R. of him). You may remember 
I felt it incumbent upon me to reassure your relatives — 

Mr. B. Yes, it must be you — confound you ! 

Spring. My good boy 

Mr. B. (angrily). Don't "good boy" me! (To 
Horne, who is up l. of him.) I suppose the whole lot 
are comiig ! (Opens telegrams.) Yes, the worst has 
happened. They are all coming. (Reads.) " Expect 
me lunch time. Mater." "Arrive 2.15. Glengarry." 
(Glaring at Spring.) Your doing ! 

Spring. I simply informed them that your messages 
had been tampered with. You yourself admit you gave 
them dates. Tired of waiting, they have — unfortun- 
ately, I admit — decided to come on the same day. It is 
yet possible for you to put them off if you can find some- 
one with a boat to take your telegrams. Where's that 
boy ! (Horne looks off, up l.) 

Mr. B. They've all started. You don't know them 
as well as I do ! (With finality.) Well, you must put 
them up. 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 63 

Spring {turns to him). I ! 

Mr. Birch. Yes, you ! You're responsible for their 
coming. You shouldn't meddle. 

Spring. But I have only a little chalet — a pill- 
box. 

Mr. B. Pill-box be hanged ! (To Horne.) He's 
got the largest house in the village. 

Spring. I will not be imposed on in this way. I 
cannot entertain them. I have not sufficient food in 
the house. 

Mr. B. (crosses to him — fiercely). Pick some more 
grape-nuts and give the cow another milking — if she's 
not drowned. 

Spring. It is infamous. 

Mr. B. (with his chin in Spring's face). If you will 
meddle with matters that don't concern you, you'll have 
to pay the penalty. You've encouraged my relatives 
to come, and you'll have to put them up. You profess 
to be very fond of them — now prove it. How can / 
take them in ! (Points to house in tragic despair, as he 
%its down on garden-seat.) 

Spring (fiercely — holding up umbrella). The person at 
the bottom of this unforeseen and most unfortunate 
contretemps is that young rascal — that scamp — that 
common highway thief you have been harbouring all 
these weeks. (Shakes umbrella at Mr. Birch.) And 
now I'll show him up. He shan't escape me. I will 
expose him and hand him (Birch rises) over to the police, 
flood or no flood. (Viciously.) Yes, I'll take your rela- 
tives into my house, but they shall know what sort of a 
person has been keeping them out of yours all this time, 
my fine fellow. 

Mr. B. (down l. — uneasily). Pooh! Ridiculous! 
What have you got against the man ? 

Spring (viciously). Got ! Only the written evidence 
of your own servant, your lad Austin. 

Mr. B. (in a menacing way). Look here, Spring, you 
have already put your foot into it once. Owing to your 
confounded busybodying ways you've brought three of 
my relatives to a flood-swept village and a burnt-out 
cottage. Don't do anything else rash. Our boy Austin 
is a most unreliable character. I've caught him lying 
and Claypool has caught him stealing. I expect he has 
a grudge against Claypool. 

Spring. Bah ! Tut, tut ! I won't be put off. I'll 
tax the man to his face with this crime, and I'll confront 
him with my witness. Do you^think I'm going to have 



64 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

my own brother robbed ? Where is the fellow ? Fetch 
him ; fetch the boy, too ! 

Mr. B. Haven't you any consideration ? How can 
we hold a court-martial when we're in this plight ? 
[Throws open dressing-gown, showing pyjamas.) 

Spring (firmly). Now and here ! You tell me to 
pick grape-nuts and milk my cow, I tell you to produce 
your rascal of a guest. (Savagely.) I'll grape-nut him ! 

Enter Claypool and Lydia, up l. 

Ah, here is the fellow ! As I have not the doubtful 
pleasure of his acquaintance, Birch, perhaps you will 
make us known to each other. 

Raise lights ; sun comes out. 

Mr. B. (to Claypool). Er — Claypool — allow me to» 
introduce you to Mr. Spring. Mr. Spring, this is Mr. 
Claypool, whom you wish to see. 

Horne is r. Lydia goes over to him, smiles and: say s 
something, and they exeunt down r. 

Spring (bowing coldly). I cannot say, sir, that I am 
pleased to see you. 

Clay. (l. of seat, to foot of it). Wait till you know 
me better. (To Mr. Birch.) Who's the old boy,, d'ye 
say ? 

Mr. B. Spring — Mr. Spring. 

Spring (offering card). Mr. Septimus Spring, sir. 

Both in front of seat ; Mr. Birch below summer-house. 

Clay, (reading card). Spring, Septimus Spring. Why, 
you're the sportsman who wrote to The Times about the 
ragging at Cambridge, saying we ought all to get six 
months' hard. • 

Spring. I had that pleasure. 

Clay, (sitting down ; Spring stands to l. of seat). And 
aren't you the beggar that's always trying to prove you're 
descended from William the Conqueror ? 

Spring. Julius Caesar 

Clay. Ah ! I've read some of his novels. Too 
much description in them. 

Spring. Pray give me your attention ! 

Clay. Fire away, Julius ! 

Spring. Sir, the keynote of my character is " Re- 
form " ! 

Clay. I hope it's improving you. 

Spring (with a gesture of annoyance). Reform ! That 



COMPANY FOR GEORGfi. 65 

is my watchword ! I want educational reform, land 
reform, housing reform, hygienic reform 

Clay. Chloroform. 
r Spring {furiously). You may joke, but the person I 
propose to reform just now is yourself ! [Drawing 
himself up and speaking with great dignity.) Sir, I 
have a brother. 

Clay. Is he like you ? 

Spring {suspiciously). He is not unlike me. 

Clay. How often are you allowed to see him ? 

Spring. What are you suggesting, sir ? 

Clay. I want to know whether you go to see him on 
visiting days, or whether he's allowed out for a little 
scamper once a month. 

Spring. Let me tell you, young man, that this kind 
of wit, however acceptable it may be at the University of 
Cambridge, is highly distasteful to me. " Visiting day." 
" Allowed out." Do you imply that my brother is — er 
— not in his right mind ? 

Clay. You have hit a cocoanut, and you are en- 
titled to twelve grapenuts. (Spring strides furiously 
up l. and back again.) Or a cigar. Take your choice. 

Mr. B. For goodness' sake, Claypool, let the man 
say what he wants to. {Sits on chair near down r.) 

Spring {at l. of seat ; hand grasping umbrella ; atti- 
tude threatening and judicial). To begin with, I should 
never have dreamt, I could not have imagined, that a 
gentleman belonging to Cambridge University would 
have stooped to the performance of such a deed. It is 
certainly a matter to be ventilated in the daily press. 

Clay. If you will tell me what the matter is, I will 
give you my opinion as to that. 

Spring. I am coming to it. You have a stuffed dog ; 
moreover, you use it for most reprehensible purposes^ 

Takes paper from pocket. Enter Austin, up l., with 
bundle of clothes. Crosses to summer-house, knocks, 
hands clothes in. 

From information received, I gather that you have 
placed your dog in the road yonder in such a position 
that motorists could not avoid running over it, where- 
upon you have demanded compensation from them. 
And there {pointing to Austin) is my witness ! 
Mr. B. {rises). Austin, come here ! 

Austin crosses to them ; stops between Birch and seat. 

Spring. Now, my lad, I believe you have something 



66 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

to tell us about this gentleman ? (Mr. Birch moves 
about with back to them.) Pray give this matter your 
best attention, Mr. Birch. Later on I may require a 
reliable witness. (Birch sits down in chair.) 

Austin. Mr. Claypool gets the dog, takes it out in 
the road, puts it down and watches it. 

Spring. The dog was stuffed, I understand ? 

Austin. Yezzur. 

Spring. Very good. Proceed. 
r Austin. Well, presently there comes along an old 
gent 

Clay. Wait a moment, Austin. (Leaning forward.) 
It's as well to be exact. You say an " old gent." How 
old was he ? 

Austin (sulkily). I dunno. 

Clay, (sits back). Then I am afraid we cannot accept 
your evidence. 

Austin. About seventy, I should think. 

Clay. You only think. Was he (pointing to Spring) 
as old as this gentleman ? 

Austin. Not by 'arf. 

Spring. Really, my good Birch, I must protest 
against being insulted in this way. (Goes up l.) 

Mr. B. The boy's giving his evidence to the best of 
his ability. Go on, Austin. 

Austin. Well, I reckernizes the gent as Colonel 
Spring 

Spring (comes down). Why couldn't you say that at 
first, absurd fellow ? 

Austin. I was a-goin* to say it, only I was stopped. 

Clay. One moment. (To Spring.) Is your brother 
senior or junior to you, sir ? 

Spring. He is my senior by five years. 

Clay, (to Mr. Birch). Then I put it to you, Birch — - 
can this evidence be admitted ? 

Spring. Will you let the boy go on, sir ? 

Clay. He has said that you are half as old again as 
the gentleman in the car, sir, and now you say your 
brother is your senior. Which am I to believe ? 

Mr. B. Go on, Austin. 

Austin. And the gentleman runs over the dog. Out 
pops Mr. Claypool 

Clay, (sitting up). It is my turn to protest. I ask 
you, Birch, do I ever " pop " ? (Spring down l. and 
back.) Such a movement is quite foreign to my nature. 

Spring. Mr. Claypool stepped into the road. Put 
it that way, boy. 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 67 

Mr. B. (rises). Wait a bit. Suppose we examine the 
dog. If it was run over, it will bear the marks. 

Spring. Good ! Can you lay hands on the dog, boy ? 

Austin (eagerly). Yezzur. I see its box in the 
summer-house just this minute. 

Spring (triumphantly — crosses and pats him on the 
back). Fetch it, my lad. 

Austin. Yezzur. (Goes into summer-house.) 

Spring. Now, Mr. Claypool, we are going to see a 
direct proof of your guilt. The dog is now to be pro- 
duced. (Austin comes out with box, which he puts 
down on stage.) Now, sir, your host shall see what 
sort of man 

Austin raises lid of box, puts his hand in, drops lid and 
gives a loud yell. 

What's the matter, my lad, what's the matter ! 
Austin. It's bit me I (Wrings hands.) 

Mr. B. Bit you ! (Takes a small white live dog out 
of box, on lead.) 

Spring. Then the whole thing's a pack of lies. 

Clay, (taking dog from Mr. Birch, and gazing upwards 
in a heroic way). " And the sun's still shining in the 
sky." 

Spring (aiming a blow at Austin with umbrella). You 
disgraceful young scoundrel. I'll send you to a reforma- 
tory. 

Clay, (interposing — holding dog affectionately). No. 
Let me speak a word for the lad. He is young. Give 
him a chance, sir. You owe me an amende honorable 
for this accusation, and all I ask is your pardon for this 
erring youth. 

Austin retiring down r. 

Spring. Very well, Mr. Claypool, I will overlook the 
matter this time. (Shaking umbrella at Austin). But, 
sir, never dare look me in the face again. 

Austin (going). I don't want to. 

Clay. Wait, Austin. I promised you a sovereign 
for getting those clothes. (Hands him coin.) As for 
what you have said about me, I overlook it. But, mind 
me — if you make a habit of doing that sort of thing 
you will get into trouble. 

Austin slouches off down r. 

Spring. What magnanimity ! (Holds out hand.) 



G8 COMPANY FOR GEORGE, — 

Young man, allow me to apologise for putting you to 
this trouble. I retract everything. 

Clay, (shaking hands). Don't mention it, I quite 
understand. (Puts dog up to Spring.) Kiss the pretty 
gentleman ! (Exit down R. Sfring indignant.) 

Mr. B. (to Spring). Hadn't you better be getting 
those beds of yours aired ? 

Spring. To be sure — to be sure. I must apologise, 
my dear Birch, for placing a guest of yours in a disagree- 
able, not to say false, position 

Mr. B. Say no more, but get ready for my relatives. 
Sir Ralph likes barley broth the last thing at night, and 
Miss Clara a little warm rum and milk — in bed. You'll 
see to that ? 

Spring. Yes, yes. I'll remember it. You must for- 
get all I said to you just now 

Mr. B. I've forgotten it already. (Spring going 
down R.) I may as well remind you that my mother 
in-law likes a bedroom looking south. 

Enter Horne from up r. 

Spring (hurriedly) . Oh, I was thinking she wouldn't — 
Mr. B. And, by the way, Sir Ralph sometimes shouts 
in his sleep ; you mustn't let it alarm you. 
Spring. I won't even listen to him. 

Exit down R. 

Dr. H. (coming down). Well, Birch, I daresay you'll* 
like to get into some proper clothes. Let me rig you out. 

Mr. B. Claypool's placed his wardrobe at my dis- 
posal, thanks. (Satisfied.) Well, the eviction's com- 
pleted. He can't stay here any more. And now it's 
your turn. 

Dr. H. (startled). My turn ! What do you mean ? 

Mr. B. Didn't you see how Claypool and your sister 
looked at one another ? Doctor, you and I have been 
made the sport of circumstance. Never again will I 
hatch a plot. This has earned me curtain lectures 
for the rest of my life. (Sits down on garden-seat and 
puts head between hands.) You'll find him a pleasant 
companion. 

Dr. H. I'll see him shot first. 

Mr. B. He likes tomatoes, and you'll have to get 
him the Sportsman every day. And mind there's green- 
gage jam for breakfast. (With a hard' laugh.) He'll 
show you how to drive your horses and turn your 
surgery into a smoking-room. 

Dr. H. I'm hanged if he shalh 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 69 

Mr. B. (rising). It's no use resisting'. He will. 
Don't wait for him to invite himself, but a?k him. Play 
the man ! (Smacks Dr. Horne on shoulder.) He's 
going to be your brother-in-law. He's only been com- 
pany for me. 

Dr. H. (furiously). Look here, I've had enough of 
this tomfoolery. I've done my best to help you, and 
this is your return. It's not a joking matter at all. I'm 
down here to earn my living; and so far I've got three old 
women with rheumatism and a boy with mumps. I 
can't afford to put a mouse up, and you ask me to house 
a fellow who has run through your entire stock of whisky 
and cigars. 

Enter Spring from down r. 

Spring. Ahem ! Er — pardon me if I am interrupt- 
ing you, Birch, but I have an idea. 

Mr. B. Ah, our hospitable friend again ! 

Spring. The point is this. My housekeeper has 
gone for a holiday, and I have only my gardener to 
help me. He is an excellent gardener, and hopes to win 
the first prize for cauliflowers at the approaching flower- 
show, but I fear domestic niceties are beyond him. Either 
he or I, you see, would have to take Miss Clara Glen- 
garry her rum-and-milk the last thing at night. Well, 
now, you will admit the situation would be a delicate 
one. (Close to him.) We are both single men 

Mr. B. (laughing). My good man, / can't help you. 
You've brought these people down here and you must 
do your best for them. (Unctuously — smacking him on 
back.) Take the rum-and-milk up together. Three's 
none, you know. 

Spring (digging him in ribs with umbrella) . Sprightly 
wag ! But hear me out. I have a suggestion to make. 
Could not our friend here (indicates Dr. Horne) manage 
just for a night or two ? 

Dr. H. Me ! Please don't suggest such a thing. 

Spring (in a wheedling tone). They would be de- 
lighted to find themselves in a doctor's hands. All 
three are in a most unsatisfactory state of health, and it 
would be the very thing. I fear my table would be 
hardly to their liking. They are people who live well, 
and you will admit that a diet of grape-nuts and milk, 
all-sufficing as it is for me 

Dr. H. (fiercely) . You are suggesting that I, a starving 
practitioner, should kill the fatted calf for people who 
don't know me, and who don't want to know me, whom I 
don't know, and don't want to know ■-_ 



70 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Enter from summer-house Mrs. Birch. She is charm- 
ingly attired, and her hair is tastefully dressed. 

Mrs. B. So fortunate Mrs. Halliday and I are alike 
in figure. And see how Fanny has done my hair, George. 
I raised her wages on the spot. 

Mr. B. You look charming, my love. (To Spring.) 
My wife will tell you how glad she is to hear you can 
put her relatives up. It gets us out of a difficulty. 

Mrs. B. (crossing to Spring). Oh, Mr. Spring, this is 
indeed sweet of you ! 

Spring (in a hollow voice). Delighted, I assure you, 
dear lady, though I fear they will find my modest chalet 
a little lacking in home comforts. 

Mr. B. (hustling him off down r.) Never mind that, dear 

boy. They can't expect too much in a flooded village. 

You must write to us in town and tell us how you are all 

•.getting on. By-bye ! 

* Spring. I am ashamed of you, Birch — ashamed of 

you ! 

Exit down r. 

Mrs. B. What a golden-hearted old gentleman ! 
Well, that is my three relatives disposed of ; and now, 
George, what about poor Mr. Claypool ? 

Mr. B. Why, my dear, you'll be glad to hear that 
Home has very kindly offered to put him up. 

Dr. H. (hastily). My good man 

Mrs. B. Oh, Doctor Home, this is most kind of you ! 
Really, how everybody seems to be helping us ! 

Dr. H. My dear Mrs. Birch, I really cannot 

Mrs. B. (warmly). But I will thank you ! It is most 
thoughtful of you to make such an offer. I have been 
bothering my head as to where he could go, and this is 
a most satisfactory way out of the difficulty. You will 
find him a most charming companion — ask George ! 

Mr. B. (ironically). He'll give you the time of your 
life. 

Dr. H. The fact is, much as I should like 

Mrs. B. I know what you're going to say — that you 
would be only too glad to put George and myself and the 
rest of our party up. But we won't trouble you ; we 
are going back to town as soon as we can get a boat to 
the station. But it is such a comfort to know that we 
leave Mr. Claypool with friends who understand him 
and will make him happy. 

Lays her hand on Dr. Horne's arm and leads him 
towards exit up l. 



COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 71 

And now, let me tell you a few little things about him. 
For breakfast he likes fish, if possible, with toast and 
greengage jam. He makes a light lunch as a rule, but is 
particularly fond of cucumber salad 

Exeunt, Mrs. Birch talking. Dr. Horne turns and 
shakes fist at Birch, up r., watching them. 

Mr. B. But wait till dinner-time ! That's when 
you'll wish the whole village had mumps ! {Exit up r.) 

Enter from down r. Claypool and Lydia. 
Clay. Lydia, you are worth more to me than all the 
gold in the world. 

They sit down on garden-seat, Claypool r., and Lydia l. 

Lydia. I should hope so indeed ! 

Clay. When I was at Cambridge, I asked you some- 
thing. Do you remember what it was ? {Takes her 
hands.) Do you ? 

Lydia. You said so many things, and one never 
knows whether you are in earnest or not. 

Clay. I swear I was in earnest ! I was never more 
in earnest in my life. Lydia, you said you would give 
me an answer if ever we met again. What is it, dear ? 

Lydia. Are you quite in earnest ? 

Claypool. Quite ! If you marry anybody else I 
will wait until you are a. widow, but I swear I will wait 
for you if I have to wait a hundred years. You do love 
me, then ? 

Lydia {saucily). The question is, sir, are you rich ? 

Clay, {pulling out money). I have four pounds. I 
got it from a chap who ran over a stuffed dog I put down 
in the road. I confess all to you. At the time I merely 
meant to make one motorist pay for what another 
motorist had done, that is, killed my dog — I meant to 
make the road pay for what the road had taken — but 
now I sit here — {tenderly) looking into your sweet, 
pure, honest face, I feel a blackguard. {Throwing 
sovereigns separately off down r.) So there they go — 
one — two — three — four ! Now my hands are clean. 
All the money in the world I now possess is a Kruger 
sixpence. {Takes it from his waistcoat pocket and hands 
to Lydia.) With all my worldly goods I thee endow. 
Now, will you marry me ? 

Lydia. As you have been so very frank with me, I 
will be frank with you. I, too, am penniless. I spent 
my last ten shillings getting here, and I haven't a 
penny in the world. 



721 COMPANY FOR GEORGE. 

Clay, (putting his arm round her waist). Perfect! 

I could not wish it otherwise. We're as poor as when 

we came into the world (Very tenderly.) Darling, will 

you give me your heart in exchange for mine ? We 

\have nothing else to offer one another, and I don't know 

that anybody could strike a better bargain than that ! 

They embrace. 

Enter Spring down r. 

Spring. Ahem ! 

Claypool and Lydia 'disengage themselves hurriedly. 

Clay, (rising). Go away, young Julius ! 

Spring. I was just forgetting ! There was one other 
telegram. (To Claypool.) For you, young sir. (Hands 
Claypool telegram.) 

Clay. Excuse me, dear. (Opens telegram.) Lydia! 
Lydia ! I've won the first prize in the Hamburg 
Lottery ! (Kisses her. She takes telegram from him 
and scans it delightedly.) ' Congratulate me, darling ! 
People — people — where are you all ? (Enter Fanny 
from summer-house, Austin from down r<; Mr. Birch 
from up r., Mrs. Birch and Dr. Horne from up l.) 
I've won a ham — I mean first prize in the Hamburg 
Lottery. (Kisses Mrs. Birch.) I'm rich ! (Turns to- 
wards Lydia, who is showing Dr. Horne the telegram. 
Finds Birch in the way and throws him aside.) I'll take 
a house in Bishop's Dale. You must all come and stay 
with me ! 

Birch. A house here ? What for ? 

Clay. Why, to be still " Company for George," of 
course. (Takes Lydia's hand. Birch sinks on to 
garden-seat with gesture of despair.) 

Curtain to chorus of " I love a Lassie." 




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Charity that Began at Home 

Country Mouse 

Dr. Wake's Patient 

Du e of Killicrankie 

Facing the Music 

Fascinating Mr. Vanderveldt 

Idler 

Importance of Being Earnest 

In Chancery 

Jedbury Junior [ment 

Lidy Huntworth's Experi- 

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Liberty Hall 

Lucky Miss Dean 

Marriage of Kitty 

Mice and Men 

Miss Elizabeth's Prisoner 

Miss Hobbs 

Mollentrave on Women 

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Private Secretary 

Return of the Prodigal 

Rocket 

Royal Family 

Second in Command 

Sir Anthony 

Snug Little Kingdom 

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Strange Adventures of Miss 
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Walls of Jericho 

When We were Twenty-Ono 

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VOLUME 150 

The Dentist 

Taken for Granted 

Just as Well 

Hogmany 

Pansy [ments 

A Doctor's Engage- 

A Duet 

My Milliner's Bill, Is. 

My Aunt from Cali- 
fornia 

His Life for Hers 

The Meeting 

The Umbrella 
Duologue 

The Late Lamented 

Woman Triumphant 

Angelina's Lover 



VOLUME 151 
9251 Chrysanthemums 

2252 My First Client 
22*^ Punctured 

zbi Old Pals 

2255 Honeymoon Tragedy 

2256 Commission Iman 
2057 Hal, the Highway- 

2253 Dinner for Two 

2259 Ninth Waltz 

2260 Human Sport 

2261 Collaborators 
2202 Mere Man 
2283 Packing Up 
2264 Paying Guest 
2205 'Enery Brown 

VOLUME 152 

2266 The Jilt 
"?267 'Op-o'-Me-Thumb 
2968 A Marriage Has Been 
Arranged 

2269 Carrots [Sturge 

2270 Conversion or JNai. 

2271 Clerical Error 

2272 Aubrey Closes the 

2273 Workbox [Door 

2274 Two on a 'Bus 

2275 Bridget's Blunders 
9276 That Brute Simmons 

2277 Well Matched 

2278 Maker of Men 

2279 Gutter of Time 

2280 Game of Chess 

VOLUME 153 

2281 Mr. Steinmann's 

Corner 
22 Q 2 Ella's Apology 
22»3 Colour Sergeant 

2284 Helpless Couple 

2285 First Aid to the 

Wounded 

2286 Correct Thing . 

2287 Their New Paying 

Guest [ment 

2288 Domestic Entangls- 

2289 Salt of Life 

2290 Time is Money 

2291 Wally and the 

Widow [Smiths 

2292 Deceitful Miss 

2293 Holly Tree Inn 

2294 Up-to-date 

i 95 Bit of Old Chelsea 



VOLUME 154 

2293 Wrong Side of tin- 

Road 
2297 The Open Door 
2293 Prima Donna (Pern 

berton) 

2299 Lights Out (Pem- 

berton) 

2300 Mirror of Time 

2301 Three Blind Mice 

(Muskerry) 

2302 Privy Council 

2303 Snowed up with a 

Duchess 

2304 Acacia Cottage 

2305 Fabricate 

2306 Compromising 

Martha 

2307 Rest Cure 

2308 Misses Primrose s 

Deception 
2300 Ejection of Aunt 

Lucinda 
2310 Uncle Dick's Darling 




2311 

2312 

2313 
2314 
2315 

2316 
2317 

2313 
2319 
2320 
2321 
2322 
2323 
2324 
2325 



VOLUME 155 
That Horrid Major 
Bardwell v. Pick- 
wick [gates 
House of Nightm- 
Tuvtle Doves [der 
Superior Miss Pelten- 
His Good Genius 
Martha Plays the 

Fairy 
Dumb Cake 
Proposing by Proxy 
Phcenix 

Boatswain's Mate 
Final Rehears.d 
Two Aunts at a Time 
Nelson Touch f 
Convict on the . 
Hearth 

VOLUME 156 

2328 Grey Parrot 
2327 Ghost of Jerry 

Bundler 
2323 Bishop's Candle- 
sticks 

2329 Peacemaker 

2330 Changeling 

2331 Wire Entanglement 
233° Pride of Regiment 

2333 "1588" 

2334 Man on the Kerb 

2335 O'Dowd 

2336 Impertinence of the 

Creature 

2337 Dramatist at Home 
2333 Martha the Sooth- 
sayer. 

2339 Old Martha, Is. [Is. 

2340 All Through Martha 

VOLUME 157 

2341 Men who Loved 

Mamie 

2342 Fanny and the Ser- 

vant Troblem 

2343 Come Michaelmas 



016 102 2792 

2345 French as he is spoke 

2346 Meringues 

2347 Mother of Three 

2348 Admiral Peters 

2349 Henrietta 

235^ Feed the Brute, 1*. 

2351 Tilda's New Hat, Is. 

2352 We Dine at Seven 

2353 Boys' Proposal 

2354 Bonnie Dundee 

2355 Suffragette 

VOLUME 153 

2356 The Visit 

2357 A Well Matched Pair 

2358 For Lack of Evi- 

dence 

2359 Little Mrs. Cummin 

2360 A Tight Corner 

2361 Dear Departed 
2352 Pipers Pay 

2363 Her Vote 

2364 The Electric Man 

2365 At the Golden Goose 

2366 Her Dearest Friend 

2367 Love in a Railway 

Train 
2363 Make Believe 

2369 Pick of Oakham 

2370 Highwayman 

VOLUME 159 

2371 What Would a Gen- 

tleman Do ? 

2372 An Excellent Receipt 

2373 Parents' Progress 

2374 Younger Generat ion , 

U. 
9375 Three Blind Mice 
(Law) 

2376 Laughter in Court 

2377 Pot Luck 

2378 Independent Means, 

Is. 

2379 Duchess of Doherty 

Court 

2380 Wiles of the Widow 

2381 The Mobswoman 
2332 An Imaginary Aunt 

2383 Lady Flora's Name- 

2384 What Charity Covers 

2385 Patty Packs a Bag 

VOLUME 160 

2386 The Oak Settle 
2337 Scaring Off of Teddy 

Dawson 
2383 The First Locust 

2389 The Cigarette 

Maker's Romance,. 
Is. . 

2390 Company for George 



And 
Between the Soup 
and the Savoury. 



